He fondles them between his fingertips blindly sensing the clefts & burgeoning ends
Leaping gullies & cliffs tamping down the deluge escalating… sighing as the summer
Breeze guessing the brightness of the Tiger’s eyes, transparency of a Quartz, freshness
Of a dark blue sea Howlite & old (false:)) coins etched skillfully in history…
Desire to own unparalleled beauty, frenzy inundating his senses, rationality flying out
To mountain’s guts where stones are born wrenched from nature’s grip…
He who tries to capture the unattainable, for riches come & go, heritage too fetching
To compass too grand to retain but frozen into words to depict the memory of the chosen.
P.s I love stones & coins for a very long time, I feel each one has a lot to say.
I hope these photos and poem give credit to their beauty
P.P.s I got an answer on the “nameless stone” it’s an Agate! You can check the blogger who sent it in the comments bellow.