The Stone

It seems that a stone rolling herself down a mountain peak falls. She actually looks for life's deeper meaning. In the end, she plunges to become river rock and absorbs the fossil's past. This stone has feelings. She feels the tears of time and the drops of rain. A river rock is cheerfully shining in the sunlight, but she's sad in the shadow of the mountain, melancholic in the moonlit, and dreamy at night, especially when the river embraces her with his waves. This rock remains lonely in the dried-up riverbed for a very long time to reflect on her existence. She is the same stone-cracking, staying in the altar of sacrifice, or becoming the head of the corner, as Jesus said. But, sometimes, she may become a symbol as a philosopher's stone or she may be the top of a pyramid. Regardless of her structure, she will never bend, and she will never change her being because a stone will always remain a part of the mountain from which she was detached. Poem by Marieta Maglas