Rock

 

Consider pebbles and their virtues.

They wait.

Each seeks its small repose.

They are not subject to opinion. 

Good folk to turn to when your mind needs rest.

But stone only seems to sleep through eyeblink lives;

it is always on the move.

I have stood on a beach with old and infant rock,

ancient sand sifted over peat in a buried marsh,

born to be coal.

There is much to consider, say the boulders,

and much time for consideration.

We pitch our tiny tents on magma's back, 

and we will drift 

wherever it wants to flow.

 

October 5 2020