My first Revision for August 17 2023 The Prized Possession Jill

[jill stockinger]

The Prized Possession    by Jill Stockinger

 

Hate shines gloriously;

it glows with a stunning

fiery essence, a heavy stone

polished over centuries

 

by hands

holding it tightly,

fondling and admiring it

endlessly

 

and passing it on

as a prized possession.

“Do not forget; do not forgive.

Here is our hate; we share it with you.”

 

The stone reflects those

holding it; reflecting back,

it corrupts their mind and flesh;

it disfigures their appearance.

 

The stone encapsulates

beliefs, passions and actions

honed to perfection

through practice by generations.

 

“Here,”

said my grandmother,

handing it

to her son.

 

“Here,”

say my parents,

placing it carefully in my hands,

“This is our precious gift to you.”

 

“This defines us.

We would not be

who we are

without it.”

 

They don't see the venomous

blood dripping from it,

the smoke of lies surrounding

all who have treasured it.

 

It grinds and diminishes

each soul it catches and cages,

but it only grows stronger

and larger through the ages.

 

What can I do with such a gift?

It pulses in my hands.

Where can I put it?

Can I throw it away?

 

I hear its insidious whispers,

duplicitous promises of superiority

and power, its poison looking for ways

to enter cracks in my mind . . .

 

I am worried, unsure of how

to handle it; the longer

I hold it, the harder

it tries to capture me.

 

How can I save myself?

If I surround it with love,

will it gather that love into itself

and be overcome?

 

I take the path of forgiveness

and embrace those I meet.

I hope this is enough

to transform the stone.

 

I indulge in a fantasy, of the rock

turning into water, and the souls

pouring out are healing and growing

and rising to follow the light.