Αδάμας/Unbreakable

Sophia Summit by The Naked Pastor

In my hands there is coal

and it will take years of pressure before

diamonds come spilling from my fingertips. 

~.~

As a child I held these hands open

you grasped them and said

you'd show me the way

you'd give me the manual

and lay out the path

and lead me on to places

I didn't want to go.

all the while the coal gathered dust

the light flicked away

and it grew cold

on the shelf.

It was during that time

that you laid claim to me

but you don't get the rest of me. 

~.~

I picked it up today

and felt the rough weight of it's potential

against my warm palm. 

~.~

Good things grow in the gardens of my mistakes

but that doesn't erase the regret. 

You can blame me for it all, if that's what helps you rest in peace.

You can tell the world I didn't have to listen to you,

if you think that will grant you absolution.

No matter what it is you now say,

I still have to walk the path

you were trying to protect me from

because it was wide and open

and it splintered into paths infinitum

and in all it’s complexity and rich topiary

you thought there was only chaos.

But there is actually beauty

and freedom

and yes,

chaos

(the lie was thinking you could protect anyone from it).

I thought I’d have to turn back from certain trails

since you had already taken much from me

and they were steep and far too long a road for a drained soul.

But there is a difference between the hard necessary work of surviving the blows,

and the hard necessary work of coming alive.  

~.~

I wrap my fingers securely around the atramental stone

I crack and bleed from the coarseness.

I blister and peel from the heat. 

But it is mine to form

And I will not let go

for no man.