Im an opal -
not white opal, that
milksop poser that jewelers
pawn off as top shelf
nor the breathtaking
black opal with its brilliant
exploding color.
No, Im a boulder opal,
Koroit,
Yowah -
a plain brown stone
unassuming
unspecial.
But in the right hands,
the rough falls away,
and turned to the light
my rivers of fire
burn.
















Comments
(of course - i already read the poem and i'd fav it again for it if I could!!)
--
The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail. Travel too fast and you miss all you are traveling for.
Louis L'Amour (1908 - 1988), Ride the Dark Trail
This is a boulder opal - see what I meant about rivers of fire?
a hint on the preview pics. they're limited 'width-wise' so if you have a "portrait" (as opposed to landscape) layout the photo will be larger in display than if it is the other way... err. not sure if that made any sense.
--
The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail. Travel too fast and you miss all you are traveling for.
Louis L'Amour (1908 - 1988), Ride the Dark Trail
--
The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail. Travel too fast and you miss all you are traveling for.
Louis L'Amour (1908 - 1988), Ride the Dark Trail
--
--
--
--
"so we fix our eyes not on what is seen,
but what is unseen.
for what is seen is temporary,
but what is unseen is eternal."
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