Poetry

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The outline
that defines the
shape of things
can be a source of
beauty
but
the essence,
the nature
is what makes
something real.
A rock.
Who is to know
what it's been
through.
Is it a piece
of a much
bigger mass?
Pressure and heat
has caused it
to shift
and separate.
But still it's
hue shows it's
connection
to it's source.
Oh,
just a rock
in a garden
placed as
a focal point
surrounded
by perennial grass
and a stream
running outside
it's borders.
And there
rests a bench
of weathered wood
facing the
fountain
dripping with
life.

H. Stone (C) 2005

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