Alchemy

A poem about transmutation.

Alchemy

Rubbing brilliance

out of a stone

Molesting the life

till true nature’s shown

West Asia, the whirlers

A place on the hill

A great fall, gray rock face

Destined to kill

West Asia, the whirlers

Glide through the sand

Arabic born mystic

Holds me in his hand

East Asia, true destiny

Found through the vine

Beneath the foot

Of an elephant

Will true nature shine

Hold light force
 
gray rock face

Till nature gleams through

West---East

Bourne through Asia

Muslim to Hindu

To polish gray rock face

Melt it and cast

Till echoes do

True shine through

Singing the past

A sand hill

Once rock face

Where true nature led

A tower built swiftly

For change of the lead

Consign all the pure

For true nature bleed

Melting, transmuting

For true nature’s need

Reviews

[Zoe Richardson]

Sculpture, perhaps? The travel of a block of stone, changing hands, destined for an artist who can transform it into a new form. It's still a block of stone, but it is now a work of art. That is what I saw as I read it, anyways! I am Deep South, too. A true Scots-Irish hillbilly. And I love Vonnegut.