The mass of stones and gems I have is meager in compare
to hoards of like I’d cast away - the latter not as fair.
The choicest of the choice I kept: the rest were thrown afar;
for who could care for such as these: dirtied, soiled with scar?
One day I chanced to come upon the worst of all of these
and threw it to the river then as if its self to cease.
The days they came and went on by as days they often do
and I returned to search the shore as my collection grew.
And what surprise did I then feel when my eyes there they saw
a polished, perfect, shining gem that had not any flaw.
It was the stone that once was cast away without a thought:
the years had cleaned it by the by and cleared its filthy lot.
Beneath the pounding waves it changed, and raging waters found
that even so the worst of these can be made pure and sound.
I cast a stone and thought it lost and left without a glance
But it was found and cleaned and bought and given one more chance.
- J. P. Antonios