Towards the end of May
It caught my eye one day towards the end of May,
obscured but partly so by wayside flowers wild,
and I paused to feel and enjoy reflected memories
glinting, gleaming, glistening, in the field of hope.
Confused it seemed familiar as if I’d spied before
a diamond in the broken bits of a tall wine glass
snapped from the stem by time’s acquired disdain
and discarded on the run from emotive states.
Perhaps an uncut crystal,
a clean and fresh dewdrop,
and wary I walked forward
from where I was before
to get a closer look.
But diamonds are too precious
to be thrown away,
crystals too far buried
beneath the surface of a life,
and dewdrops glisten only
for too short a time
to warrant the delay
on my walk that day in May.
And yet I paused, and yet I moved,
until finally the clouds brought in the rain
to hasten my withdrawal
from the onset of insight.
(Photograph by Frank Bennett, New Zealand)
Sometimes peaceful I go back to see if it’s still there,
sometimes I have to wonder why I stopped to stare,
but most times my tears distort so grand a view
to leave me looking down at the same familiar ground.
Diamonds, crystals, dewdrops,
and I’m a silly fool
for believing, knowing, sensing,
they’re a part of you and me!
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