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If every stone on riverbank desired the farther shore,
Where stones endure in silence, contemplating evermore:
Some would choose a soaring arc, would clack-clack abruptly
And fall to sleep unwetted, never penetrating the fearful mysteries
Beneath the water;
Other stones, impelled by lesser arms, would pull up short
Gulping deeply, noisily splashing, in the eager dive for oblivion;
Tragic remembrance;
Most stones, I do imagine, a middle path would choose,
Skipping over the ever-moving surface, to glimpse at the dark riverbed,
But more often sky;
If I were stone on riverbank desiring farther shore,
A path through air and water would establish my rapport;
1 comment:
Really, really wonderful.
Rhonda/Shusli
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