• Quite content in silence

    Quite at ease knowing it will last

    that let in the arrows and waves

    Nestled securely between other paths of earth

    It may be chipped away

    but never moved

    A stone is quite content just to be a stone



    A bird means little to a stone



    It means quite taps of long toes

    It means a passing shadow

    It means something eating the pest that crawl over it as well

    Bird songs a stone cannot hear

    the vibrations sink and stay within the earth

    and shake the stone

    but this it cannot hear

    A stone is quite content to 'listen' to the bird



    The winds mean little to a stone.



    It means a relief from the sun

    It means mud and water

    It means an unseen but fundamental damage

    Skies raging a stone cannot see

    the weather unsettles the earth

    and tilts the stone

    but this it cannot see

    A stone is quite content to watch the winds turn



    The bird and the Wind mean a great deal to the stone



    It means a sudden absence

    It means no more songs

    It means no more passing shadows

    Stones cannot call out

    the stone curses the earth

    willing vermin to eat it

    but stones cannot call out

    A stone is quite content not sitting well with stones



    Time means much to a stone



    It means new storms

    It means slowly shifting out of the mud

    It means worms eating it's foundation

    Only time moves a stone

    the constant inconstant

    can move even that

    A stone cannot stop time

    A stone is quite content to become a pebble



    Unmoving, blind and deaf

    The stone is all these things

    I who am

    And am not

    Find these rock and throw them well across the earth

    are they content to know for a moment the flight their bird did?

    To move through and with the wind?

    Or do they only know the crash, the unforgiving earth

    do they

    as I

    as the bird

    feel only the crash?



    The stone did not hear the echo's of the wind

    it did not hear the silence as acutely as I

    It did not cry out finding the bird bent on the ground.

    A stone is quite content to be a stone.

    I wish I was strong enough to be a stone.

    I wish even more that I might catch the bird before the winds send them crashing down.

    Till then I and the stone shall wait silently.
    Shaken by the silence.