Immutable and silent stands the rock.
Wind and hail has harmed it not.
Gravity’s battle has been fought.
A thousand years to see a day,
born of violent mantle forces,
what end befalls, I cannot say.
Above, the lichens cling in place.
Beneath, the rock chuck burrows.
Loneliness sparks a lack of haste.
Life’s rotation brims with motion,
as the massive stone lives in grace.
The boulder’s unrelenting will,
has won the fiercest race.