The River Rocks of Shale

Natural Glitter—

Mica and pyrite and God all shredded

Into golden pieces that nip my feet

But I can't feel a thing.

The icy water numbs my feet and my feelings

Of glory, even with

Diamond encrusted toenails.


The river washed it all away

This Holy Thursday.

Natural sand and river banks beg me not

To take a precious stone;

But I could have a shell.

I take it in reverence.

Crisp water—

I would have drank the whole thing

If it would have let me but I found

Control, and Purpose, and

A moment of peace

In a loud and warring world.