Base Metal


Smooth to the touch.

No longer what I was.

Used to be rough.

Bonded with the flux.

Looked thought the books.

Sat in the fire.

All it took,

all my desire

to reveal in me

The Philosopher.

Base metal.

All that I am.

Several layers,

welded together,

or an alloy by measure.

One and ten,

and then

smashed under pressure.

Fed a tonic,

or a tincture.

Watched the perfect picture

dissolve in an instant,

replaced with this new vision.

I am not

what I once was.

I was once

base metal.




in this crucible.

All my imperfections,

a life of misdirection,

turned into a vapor,

extinguished in my destruction.

Coaxing the nucleus

to change,

is the path,

the way.


how the atoms

are arranged.

And sometimes,

even how they’re made.

Looking at all this

slag and dross.

Evidence of what I was.

Remnants of us.

The treasure

of the lost.

Seek a brilliant way.

See that we are made

not of what we thought.

We all start out

as base metals.



DJR – 2022

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