I, too, have a place

By Lisa Eramo

There is no easy way of telling
what lies inside a geode
until it breaks or is
cut open.

Each one starts the same, life forming
in the shelter of sedimentary rock,
rounded cavities fed slowly
by groundwater minerals, heat, water, and stress.

On the outside, hardened limestone weathers its storms,
protects the insides that took years to form--
crystals of quartz, amythest, and jasper or
minerals of calcite, dolomite, celestite.

As decades pass and seasons come and go,
each one turns its own way,
colors varying in shades of warmth
that languages cannot describe.

I remember the day I found one on the ground,
a stunning cathedral of light
cracked open by forces
beyond its own control.

I remember the way I cried
for the years its masterful artwork went unnoticed,
for the talents it never used,
for the way it lived in hiding, doubting its own
naked beauty.

Its stunning vulnerability made me pause.

I couldn't stop myself from staring
as it lay open, crying out
for purpose, crying out
as if to say
I, too, have a place in this world.