Like Petrified Wood

by Janis Gaines

Our love is frozen in time
Like petrified wood
Once alive and breathing
Now lifeless and dead,
Though it still shines a strange light
That makes me believe in God.
The earthquakes came
And the floods rose high
And the piles of debris buried
All the tender, precious things.
Time plays an evil trick
That has its own wry beauty.
And now it’s a collector’s item
Or perhaps just driftwood
Found by the shore in the hands of a small kid.
The memories are solid and yet
Echo throughout every wavy line.
The scientists wonder what it’s made of,
The investors debate and try to put a price on it,
And the school boy sets it up high on a shelf.
But only I know its true worth —
I was there when the seed broke ground
And rings grew around the trunk;
The bark was pliable in my fair hands.
I can still see the grand tree
And all it was meant to be
Before it became stone.

You can place any bid —
Only I will sleep with it
Tucked under my pillow.

© July 16, 2012
Asheville, NC