Poem: Stone Hard Beauty

Stone Hard Beauty

Wave clamber to the shore, softness after the storm.
The sky is dark and uneven,
Here and there, driftwood litters the beach.

You walk to the edge of dampness. You sit,
glad for the nothingness, the emptiness,
a place to pour yourself out without thinking.

There are stones at the water’s edge. Black ones. White ones.
You pick one up. A white one. You feel its texture,
smooth from the sea, yet organic, a rippled surface.

You hold the stone, almost absently.
You have come here to pray, not with words,
but with your heart, trusting your God,

the great surgeon to remove the madness,
the distractions, fears and flotsam.
to whittle you away once more

and make you
a thing of stone hard beauty,
soft and as unpredictable as the sea.

About this poem.

I am missing the ocean. Soon it will be the off season, and I will go.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s