Grit

'Great things are done by a series of small things brought together' - Vincent Van Gogh

Grit

Not a majestic mountain
or a rugged immoveable rock
nor a monument hewn from a slab of granite.
Less than a fragment of shingle or shale,
not even a pebble rippling the surface
of a puddle after the rain,
but merely a single grain of sand
blown with the rest to settle
as dust on troubled land.

Just a handful of us
could jam the filthy machine
till it grinds to standstill
at least until given a clean,
or roughen the road to save the unwary
from slipping on oil or ice.
We could spoil the spinach at a bankers’ banquet,
break a gold-crowned tooth or two,
enough of us with the grit to dig in
while holding on to our potential
as individual particles
each to seed a beautiful
new pearl.