The Geode: Splitting the Stone

I hold between my hands
A crusty ball of chalky white
Unopened geode
Containing solid wonder of
Agate geometries
Hidden from my eye
but bright in my imaginings.
If I dare to split in two
this tiny orb
Do I tamper with a world?

From darkness
Far below where I have ever traveled
Comes this gift into my life
I let it fill my spaces
Its heaviness
Invites me to a ground
I have been known to see
To float above
Its wonders
Send me soaring
with the rapture of the white-winged falcon
who is taken by the wind

Self-contained globe
You are complete.
It is enough to hold you
Soft hands on stone
To feel your weight
And know that in you
is all the magic of creation

If there were never any more
Still I would be satisfied

And yet
your mere existence
solid presence
challenges me
compels me
Excites in me
my age-old longing to know
and to be known.

To risk
as in the daily act of living
the twisted path of loving
What worlds would be opened
If we dare to split the stone?

Done carelessly
the rock will shatter
leaving scattering of sherds
that may penetrate and wound
A light film of white dust
the only reminder

But with tender heads
and wise heart
We may choose to risk
to undertake the process of unfolding
the beauty of the core.
It cannot be done too quickly
A lifetime may be needed to understand
the mysteries we find

Let us hold this treasure
Let us weigh it
even as we cherish it
Let us pass it between us
and hold it to the light.

Let us dare
To split the stone.
— Victoria Price, 1987