Stardust, Still

I never believed

what the blue mountains said of me,

that I was luminary.

I listened

to beige pebbles,

that played inside trickling streams,

longing to conform

within the shallow depths

of those crystalline springs.

But my lightness carried me to the sea.

***

I never understood

what the cardinals sang of me,

that I called the wild.

I listened

to the orange fire,

that scorched what I had begun to grow,

longing to dance

like the floating golden embers,

but the burning hardened me to steel.

***

I never dreamed

that the Dogwood bloomed for me,

but she declared I was worthy.

And I listened

to her ruby petals,

that whispered truth upon misty morning fog,

longing to again be made soft,

for my forged ferrum bones to melt,

but she cradled me in her branches,

humming verity,

"iron is still stardust

if you let yourself come home."