Atoms

Photo by Hanna Postova on Unsplash

A citrine tipped smoky quartz crystal, tucked tenderly into my hand. I feel its rough edges, its smooth planes. Earth’s magic in my palm.

Magma cools, atoms collect. Raw materials shape into something otherworldly. Pressure can crush into dust or solidify into strength. Oh how I long to be like that crystal. Weathered, resilient and rare. Magical, sparkling and strong.

This poem was written during Jacqueline Suskin’s class Every Day is a Poem.