The Language of Stone
The Language of Stone
They smile and laugh, then look away,
As if I've somehow lost my way.
They'll never see what I have known,
The quiet heartbeat locked in stone.
"You love rocks?" they ask with puzzled eyes.
So let me tell you why.
Before the oceans learned to roar,
Before the forests touched the shore,
Before one heartbeat stirred the skies,
The Earth was writing in disguise.
Each crystal grew by nature's laws,
With pressure, heat, and patient cause.
Atoms dancing, bound so tight,
Building mountains grain by light.
Granite, jasper, agate, flint—
Each holds a story, each a hint.
A fossil whispers, quartz will gleam,
Like frozen pages of Earth's dream.
They've watched continents drift apart,
Felt volcanoes split the dark.
They measure time not days or years,
But endless ages without tears.
They never lie, though they deceive
The hurried eye that won't believe.
Look closer... secrets start to show;
The deeper you dig, the more you'll know.
Their fractures, bands, and crystal lines
Record forgotten space and time.
Each vein a map, each fault a scar,
A diary written beneath the stars.
When darkness settles in my mind,
A single stone helps me unwind.
It whispers softly, "You are small...
Yet somehow, you belong through all."
My worries fade, my fears grow light;
They're dust beside geologic height.
It took the Earth uncounted ages
To write these silent, stony pages.
When children don't return my call,
When silence echoes through it all,
When love feels distant, cold, and thin,
The stones still let my spirit in.
They take my sorrow, fear, and grief,
And hand me quiet, sweet relief.
Not joy exactly... not despair...
Just endless peace already there.
I've filled my pockets, trunks, and shelves,
My camper's every nook as well.
Each stone I found through joy or pain
Still holds the echoes that remain.
So if you pick one up someday
And sadness somehow comes your way,
Set it down and choose once more;
Another waits with something more.
Some have faces if you see,
Old companions smiling back at me.
Each has a name, a soul, a place—
A silent friend with ancient grace.
Am I crazy?
Maybe so.
But crazy built on bedrock grows.
I'm grounded deep beneath the sky,
While others chase the clouds on high.
I'll search the dirt until I'm gone
For friends awaiting to be found.
And when I'm gone, as all must be,
These rocks will still remember me.
Long after flesh returns to dust,
Long after steel has turned to rust,
They'll drift through time, unchanged, alone—
The universe still holding stone.
Perhaps that's why I love them so.
Because forever...
has always looked like rock.
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