What Comes Next

What comes next when sad earth no longer is smiling And we are all carrying parcels like stones inside of us As if rare gems; we are their pack horses We save up stones for some special day’s events We watch ourselves from mirrors Far away, on uncertain horizons. We carried rocks around, but for whom Did we carry them all this time? People who saw us daily ignored our burden Our grimaces looked happy, so involved at our task were we: The heavy weight of grimaces was normal here, Nobody looked twice. Bury us upon our feet, our busy faces pointing upward And let no heavy boulders quash our expressions in death, It was a long brave wait and perhaps we forgot Whatever we waited for; too busy rolling things uphill. But we grew thick muscles under the daily weight of granite Now the sun shines down, sun that we never had time for when alive Our roots, our brains sticking up out of the ground Like some fissured wound of stumbling block- Even if the clocks stopped, the ticking never will.