Tresorie – SILICA [Silica]

Small is petite and beautiful, so be
SILICA fine refined, more refined

Mind fairly bright good at numbers,
easily tired retires in its shell.

Child of doting parents, over fondled
overprotected as well

Cant get in, cant get out, cant be
alone, fails to thrive.

Does not learn, not even plays, at
bottom of everything

Obstinate as a mule, kicks up a row
when pushed against a wall!

Orderly mild neat and clean, delicate
perception, misses not a detail.

Possessed of a mental fibre, the world
needs evermore.

Born mathematician, eternal
“schoolboy” with scholarly bent

If only had will to impose, and
confidence to command

World would step aside if he knew
whither to go nay.

From here to eternity, SILICA carries
his cross of ARSENIC sans its professional prowess

Fixed ideas, monomania to search and
count pins, to fear them

Forty long years to trot a single trek
of “nine-to-five” boredom

An insignificant existence of unvarying
routine

SILICA lives out his life in
teaspoonful one at a time.

His puny body tangible image of a petty
mind services at low key.

Catches every whiff of cold, nose and
ear leak, with pus swell glands

For lack of vital heat, gets cold feet
at every change of event, Nutrition poor, assimilation poorer, immunity
down and out.

Skin festers, abscesses abound,
crippled nails, teeth decay.

Rickets and scrofula, stone cutters
phthisis be his lot.

“Behold his world in a grain of
sand”

True to these immortal words of William
Blake

Potentised homoeopathic sand unfolds a
world within world of mans flesh and spirit, of his mortal defeat

Give SILICA the SIMILIMUM that touches
the core of life

To restore health even to change the
course of destiny?

Dr. SARLA SONAWALA.

BA DHS, DF (HON) LON.