The thoughts that tumble in my head confuse my sight at times
And I cannot see to clearly think about the troubles in my mind.
At times like these I wander out to find a quiet glen
Where I can sit and listen for the sound of peace within.
I wandered out today and found a quiet restful place
And sat beside an old gray stone but found so little grace.
Yet even as I tarried there within the shadow of an oak
I gasped in wonder and in fear as the stone beside me spoke!
“Excuse me friend and do not fear that I presume to speak”
“But if you will sit and talk with me I may know what you seek.”
“I’ve waited for so long a time that you might wander close”
“And I see by your expression that you are quite morose.”
“How can you see,” I asked the rock “and how is it you spoke”
“When you are but a simple stone on a hill beneath an oak?”
I searched the stone roundabout and looked most carefully
For any sign of cunning touch that might be able to deceive.
I heard the stone laugh low in an amused and graveled way
As it sat there on its shaded knoll regarding out the day.
“This is no trick,” it said to me. “I am only what you see,”
“But sit now and I’ll listen while you share your thoughts with me.”
So I told the stone about my life and the changes time had wrought
And all about the strife and the fears which I now fought.
I lamented that my life had never been more than it was
And of how it seemed that all my trials came without good cause.
The stone sat silent for a time as it listened most carefully
And then it sighed, a patient sound and then it said to me,
“Before you walked upon the earth I was, and still I am”
“Yet not the same as once I was for I change just like man.”
“The flow of time and wind and snow beat upon my brow”
“And mold and shape and make me into what you see here now.”
“Once I stood so tall and proud, a mighty granite peak,”
“With beauty and majestic form that all men came to see.”
“Remember this, man of bone and flesh and blood infirm”
“That even a stone mountain cannot remain as once it was.”
“The passing of the ages shapes all things to its will,”
”Yet even in the changing it remains the same stone still.”
“And so do you change as well as time plays out its turn,”
“The one that all life dances to be it man or stone so firm.”
“So in your passing in this life just be what you can be,”
“But then, what do I know? I’m just a stone, you see.”