In the sacred hallways of heaven,
A crystal jewel so precious and rare.
Nestled amidst grass, thick and soft as down.
So soft and fragile,one must only whisper there.
Tis jewell, a beauty rare, so hard to find, unique.
So perfect and complete- but touch it and it breaks.
With our cracked, scarred hands, we are to hard.
So we visit there in dreams, that we forget when we wake.
Silence, untouchable it seems. To here a feat indeed.
To take hold, greater still, for the jewel’s fragility
Is so great, we can but whisper it for fear it’ll disappear.
This jewel is everything we wish that we could be.
Fragile-like a finch egg. A layer so thin you tremble in fear.
Like the water surface – feeling every vibration.
So perfectly delicate – like the blossoms just open – so fragrant.
To mishandle once brings condemnation.
Touch it gently, and pray to God that you don’t break it.
And you may find something glorious beyond your dreams.
Break it, and you will find yourself screaming inside.
Each day and night, a tormented, tortured being.
Story behind the poem:
Sitting at dinner the other night, and decided I wanted to write about ‘Fragile’. So here it is. I didn’t actually have a specific topic in mind. Fragile can be so many things. I did get a bit of inspiration from the movie Gladiator, where the emporeror, Marcus Aurelius, declares to Maximus: “There was once a dream that was Rome. You could only whisper it. Anything more than a whisper and it would vanish… it was so fragile.”
photo by Andreas Krappweis