Geode’s Ode

~by Paula Veloso Babadi

I recently had the chance to reflect on where beauty comes from when I happened across this photo by Robert R. Just below the surface of its’ plain exterior, the geode gifted me with a splendor that, upon seeing it, took my breath away. I had to know more about geodes and spent half a day reading about their beginnings, their formation, their arrival at the place that makes them what they are. It became apparent to me that human beings, God’s most majestic creation, take somewhat the same journey as the geode. It’s the struggle, the adversity, the pressure and our reactions which create our individual beauty – sometimes hidden from our own eyes, but definitely present and always noticed by our Creator.

Geode’s Ode

My plain, dark veneer deceives even sincere eyes
Scouring rocks housing spheroids, ovoids;
Contemplating what might lie beneath the surface.
.
I am formed from harsh erosion, tough weathering,
Transport by wind, water, and unwavering elements
To the place where you find me.
.
But I was born innocent,
As light as a bubble resting in the calmed space
Beyond volcanic eruption or
Crumbled fragments from the sea.
.
Time provided me a hardened shell to
House my empty place at bubble’s burst and
Nature penetrated my pores with
Elements only she could feed me
Through seeping waters layer by layer, slowly
Depositing her riches with each changing rain.
.
Your eyes did not see the pressure then,
Locking me in bedrock, pressing, squeezing, forcing
Each layer to cling within, smooth and rough -
Chemical gifts from the ground.
.
My insides are organized from chaos;
Orchestrated, uniquely different-
Drawn portraiture fingered by my response to a mighty hand.
How could you know that at my core, there might still be
A small empty space waiting to be filled,
Yearning for completion so intensely
That the entire universe cannot finish it,
Cannot feed it, cannot press it further -
Only the Mighty hand can do that.
.
Today, your eyes found me and
They were not deceived by dark, rough edges,
Or incomplete formations.
Your knowing eyes and wise hand picked me up, broke me open and
Revealed the beauty hidden just inside.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Paula Veloso Babadi has worked in the health care industry for over thirty five years, but her true passion is poetry. She is a member of the St. John’s Chapter of the national Catholic Writers Guild and a regular contributor to the St. Joseph’sReflections Newspaper. Growing up in England and Pensacola with her Filipino and British parents and marrying into her Iranian family, she now lives in Jacksonville, Florida with her husband, daughter and nearby three grown sons and grandchildren.

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