My Pocket Rock
Smooth and warm to my touch
I reach to you for comfort
so you can remind me
of the days I carried your cousin
in my pocket as a young girl.
Then, my pocket rock was pink
with embedded stones
of different colors
all neatly set into it
its surface just a little rough.
I think about the Lord
saying that Peter was the rock
upon which He would build
His church, the one I belong to
that comforts me so today.
In some way,
I carry that church in my pocket.
SKB
http://www.myspace.com/sheila_kathryn_barrera
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