Unburried-Treasures

I was a white flower bud. I was a peach, slick with dew, I was a semi-truck    barreling down the orchard at 83 mph,    leaves rip-flying in my wake. Before I was a fleecy lamb    clean and new,    brushed and primped,    led to a union that was tinged with unclean hands   Filth-smeared,    generations deep. Then I was a ship,    afloat on kind seas    basking in salt-freshness,    alone in the sun but without counsel;  quiet and still. I solidified into a structure    of golden granite;   strong, smooth, and bright built upon bedrock and tested by weather, able to shelter and provide sustenance    to blue flower buds,