It's been sometime since she's opened this box,
Today it tinkers, alluringly.
Promise of treasures owned,
But safely cast away to forgotten places.
To be retrieved,
When memory plays fetch.
A few metal rings,
Embedded with colored stones.
And a metal lace for the neck.
Solid gifts, of a transient past.
Crystal on a chain,
Slender, like the neck it's worn on.
Taking on the color of skin
Or whatever's hiding it.
The illusion of many lights contained within it.
What is crystal,
But a fragile stone?
An illusion of transparency
And it's deemed lesser.
Is the singularity of color deemed solid?
And the absence of it,
Fragility?
She holds it in her hands,
Remnant of a love past.
Sun shines through it,
Breaking it into shadow diamonds,
Some turn into a mirror for the sun,
Breaking it's warm color into the spectrum,
A mirror of pieces to the whole.
This shadow lies only in its boundaries,
For its center has no opacity.
And only something, that's truly transparent,
has no shadow.
Blinded by this play of light,
She shifts her gaze to darker shades;
This Sun's light creates many shadows,
For those searching for temporary respite.
Fragile, yet grounded,
Crystal sways with its chain.
And the same shadow the sun cast,
Is now freckled with rainbows.
Broken parts of this Sun,
Even more beautiful in their warp.
Mesmerized she stares,
But these shadows create space,
For the mind's light to fall through.
And memories come rushing in,
Waves,
swaying like a crystal on a chain.
between the opaque and transparent,
the different shades of vision;
focused on rainbows in the shade,
While shadow diamonds,
dance on the periphery.
