Skipping stones

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;