Stone’s Song: to the singing comet You beckon me to follow Into the shallow bed It’s been a long dry fall The river parched for a snowstorm Marbles, granite, white, pink alabaster Each speaking a Babylon tongue You rubbed the green chert with saliva Releasing ghosts from its oxidized face Magma cools into rocks, sand, soil Solar wind, rain, fens and rivers Oh the way we repeat ourselves Leaning like trees on ocean’s cliff So thin is the stone’s inner wall How large is the space for love? A pebble drifts through space in a cloud of gas Two children play at the river’s source Stones under the weight of the sea Children sing into the wind, pockets heavy with heavenly things That feel of a stone in hand…that smell...that taste...that color and shape of groundmass polished to a section…that miraculous accumulation of strata sleeping under the dark forest…sculpted by splashing…that breathing of minerals...that order of the universe…that wonder…that awe…that light of the last autumn day…that wet breath--all impossible to say in words… all said in a stone abc.net.au/science/articles/2014/11/12/4126840.htm#.VGOxoPibkBo.facebook
Posted on: Sat, 15 Nov 2014 16:34:02 +0000