Some days
I am
strong, firm
a mountain rising
from the rich strata of my years
There is no past
No abandoned bedrock
No memory
Only now
Other days
the mighty hammer falls
breaking
off a cliff
exposing evidence
of suffering’s transgression
sediments
hidden
beneath
that would be ripe
for erosion
if I would let them surface
Concealed
my mantle boils
awaiting metamorphosis:
time, press the layers together
transform them
bond them
with the fingerprint of glory
shining at my core
A self portrait poem. Thank you for reading!
The Poetry Patio 