The River Rocks of Shale
Mica and pyrite and God all shredded
Into golden pieces that nip my feet
But I can't feel a thing.
The icy water numbs my feet and my feelings
Of glory, even with
Diamond encrusted toenails.
The river washed it all away
This Holy Thursday.
Natural sand and river banks beg me not
To take a precious stone;
But I could have a shell.
I take it in reverence.
I would have drank the whole thing
If it would have let me but I found
Control, and Purpose, and
A moment of peace
In a loud and warring world.