It’s been a while since I last shared a poem of mine. I’ve continued my revisions of older poems; time has allowed me to polish some of the raw emotions in the originals.
This is one I wrote years back now in high school, and have done many revisions over the years, but I think I finally have it where I want it to be. Part of the inspiration for me came from mason jars (which I’ve always oddly loved – even before they became the in thing they are now) – especially those truly antique/vintage ones with the lovely green/blue glass.
placed side by side …
both unassuming, on top of a simple wooden table.
through the windows –
centered on the two.
smooth, polished –
like a stone
rubbed to silkiness by decades of flowing water;
its perfect daisies
by some gentle, loving hand.
a blue mason jar
humble, modest … perfectly ordinary.
The pitted glass
reflects a well-used life.
Its scars, cracks, and stains
reveal to us a jar
that has been treated with little care –
broken nearly to pieces.
In this life, we are faced
with a choice between the two –
the world has already made her choice:
for beauty is valued over scars –
and none wish to see
the pain that life can inflict on our hearts.