Time for Prosery [not poetry] in the friendly dVerse Poets Pub. Merril is our host and provides us with this line from Nan Shepherd's "The Hill Burns" ~ from 'In The Cairngorms' (Edinburgh: The Moray Press, 1934}
The granites and schists of my dark and stubborn country
I notice the shimmer first .. the granites and schists of my dark and stubborn country. A strange glitter appears along the horizon, as though America itself has been polished.
WARNING: schist shines because its minerals have been crushed until they MUST align, forced into place by unimaginable strain.
Leaders, different as bands running through the stone .. one sort pressing downward, tightening laws, dimming truths until people feel themselves flattening .. losing their natural shape.
The other lifting pressure, turning layers gently, allowing old minerals to breathe, the new to grow .. understanding schist's beauty comes not from pressure, but from survival.
Broken things arranging themselves into a new order, never forgetting what came before. The question .. silent, and heavy as stone, whether we become a radiant testament to endurance .. or crack along our deepest layers.
Because schist never lies, it reveals everything.