Stones of age, sparkling in sun,
gleam at the light to hold.

A few dull—where nothings run,
Seams with trifles cold.

Pressure and pressure— more dull rocks won,
Nothing to shine in light.

They gleam their darkness to fade the sun,
Nothing to shine at sight.

With enough pressure,
And time just right.

A fissure,
A spark— sets light.

For in the weight of ignorance- of dull stones,
A spark, not wisdom, pulls blight.

Now,
For the sheer weight of consequence to mold-
The light, of dull rock— can first hold.