Once more Christopher faces a certain grumpy dwarf only this time he’s stroking his silvery-black beard in a pensive fashion.
Christopher: Back again?
Quartz: Aye. I’ve got concerns about my story. Concerns I think the scribbler will mull over if I talk to you.
Christopher: Aren’t you happy with your story?
Quartz: The scribbler has paused it to go back and look at what she’s written thus far. Aye, it’s better than I thought it would be. Better than she thought it would be. Still…
Christopher: What’s bothering you about it?
Quartz: My Fairest got a very pretty song to sing for her story as well she should. I have a riddle disguised as a rock manual pretending to be a poem.
Christopher: I’m trying to picture that…
Quartz: Exactly! The scribbler is making it too difficult! I want to get across some of the passion I feel for the stones, a love that began when I first heard my mother whisper these lines to me as a lad. They’re neither simple nor beautiful enough, nor do they convey that…special feeling. Besides they ought to rhyme, don’t you?
Christopher: What are these lines?
Quartz: One stone blushes with with life
Another burns with desire
Sunshine gathers in the navel
Sunlit waters lap around the throat
The heartstone pulses pink
While jasper keeps you upright
Darkness gathers at the feet
Blue sorrow and purple wisdom meet in the head
All brought together by the same
The clear quartz of your name.
Christopher: That’s not too bad, although only the last two lines rhyme.
Quartz: It’s a riddle describing a bunch of stones which you can use for healing. One I have to use to gather the rocks together which will fuse into a crystal coffin. I’m not sure if you could even call it verse. My mum could do better than this. So can the scribbler.
Christopher: You could help her, if you’re not happy with this. Start thinking about the stones, what they mean to you. Nudge her imagination.
Quartz: Right. Not sure if my mum actually learned the above. Someone else may have taught it to her.
Christopher: Yes, but how much of what you feel about the stones came from your mother? Began with your mother?
Quartz: Aye, you have a point. I’ll start nudging.