Reveal your secrets, Oh Diamond-
prized and coveted among gems
but why SO loved?
You were not your own.
Hard pressed, hidden and buried in fire
trapped in life, death and time,
but this makes you solid and stronger than iron!
Fortune to the one who finds you, who digs you out
all rough and common looking,
a true treasure only to Him who dares, Him who knows,
Him who sees and cares enough!
The first blow comes:
and a facet of light gleams
reflecting glorious light though precious rock.
The Craftsman, the master of time, is patient;
for nothing is wasted;
time and again it is broken, hewn
and the shards are gathered and ground,
mixed with blood to make a paste-
a unique compound,
a polish to reflect a face
to polish others found along the path of strewn, hewn rocks
BLOW! BY BLOW! BY BLOW!
With each blow a new facet revealed
to reflect more of this all encompassing light
Love in pain, polishing,
Love in death, cutting,
Love in tears, in laughter in Joy
BLOW! Polish! BLOW!
Love in sacrifice, cutting,
Love in Victory, polishing
pouring itself out in never ending love.
So how many blows does it take, Oh Diamond?
How many blows, Oh Craftsman?
Till your face is reflected clearly in all your beauty
all your facets
and all your glorious light?