Opal

As I turn the stones between my hands,

Sunlight gleams and breaks across its surface;

Blue of the sea,

Green of the evergreen forest,

Purple of the setting sky,

White of the clouds.

Blending and bleeding into each color,

Within the cage of the stones

Strung around my neck. 

Shifting as the sun beams from the sky.

The necklace I wore was priceless. Precious opals were strung together around my neck, stones that caught the light and reflected in white light. My pockets lighter with the cool weight against my neck, I remembered the weary jeweler who patiently explained the rarity of opals while he threaded each opal painstakingly onto the wire. 

He told me how water tricked down through the layers of sediment, deeper and deeper, picking up the elements of the Earth. Rich with silica, the water so deep in the ground evaporating from the flame of the inner Earth. Layers of silica, compressed under the pressure of fossils, rocks, and sandy soil over the years. Glass-like structures within the soil, pulled from the depths of the earth, sparkling and glinting against the dark black of the sand, changing color with each angle. 

He handed the necklace and I kept it clutched to my chest. They all stared at me as I walked by. The sun shone brightly in the sky and the stones around my neck twinkled with pastel shades, the gift of the deep mines.