Poetry About Crystals

The crystal keeps a winter under glass. Light breaks cleanly through its buried angles. Before this room, it slept in mountain dark. Pressure taught its atoms how to gather. I turn it slowly between finger and thumb. Deep time answers without needing a voice.

The scene turns slowly in another light. Before this room, it slept in mountain dark. Edges soften while the question sharpens. I turn it slowly between finger and thumb. Nothing is solved by looking away. Deep time answers without needing a voice.

The crystal keeps a winter under glass. Hours pass, but the image does not leave. Before this room, it slept in mountain dark. It returns us to geology, facets, minerals, light, deep time, and the meanings people place in stone. I turn it slowly between finger and thumb. The day continues with a more attentive heart.