White Rock of Quartz

Six sides, so small,
Pointy ends, white as dove,
Can you show me how to recall?
Tall, yet small, yet all of the above.

Smooth and sharp,
Warm and cold,
It calls to my fingers,
Like a wolf to its pack.

Spinning ‘rounds in my fingers
Until they go numb,
Light, and yet significant,
Small and united in my hand.

This rock of quartz, brings me security,
Chases away my boredom,
And eats away my time,
In my fingers.

Hard as stone, yet as soft as fur,
Chases away my fears and lights,
Tied to my hands, spinning and spinning,
This rock has a place in my heart.