Resting stoically on a hill
are two boulders that
once were known as oneShorn by the constant
dripping of the sky’s tears
and dry throat of the earthOpening up over time
as stony hearts tend to
-after years of being
bombarded by hot salty tears
©Vivian Zems
May 10, 2018 at 8:39 pm
I love rocks, and often think about the history they have lived through, and how they have weathered so many storms and rainfalls.
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May 10, 2018 at 8:54 pm
Yes, I think rocks are “old souls,” and have seen it all, if only they could talk.
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May 11, 2018 at 3:21 am
Those ancient rocks tell their stories but say not a word. I can remember as a child exploring the countryside near our home feeling a special connection when coming across such large boulders climbing and playing on them and sitting up against them as though they were friends. Great poem Vivian to take me back to my past.
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May 11, 2018 at 11:31 am
Aww..I’m so glad it resonated with you. I, too believe that these old boulders have lived a few lifetimes…and have stories to tell.
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May 11, 2018 at 4:24 am
Love it
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May 11, 2018 at 11:29 am
Thank you! 🙂
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May 11, 2018 at 5:10 am
Stoic stones opening up at last courtesy of ‘sky’s tears’…so beautifully put.
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May 11, 2018 at 10:18 am
Thanks, Sumana!
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May 11, 2018 at 12:22 pm
A beautiful telling of a history.
Anna :o]
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May 11, 2018 at 6:44 pm
Thanks Anna!
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May 11, 2018 at 4:37 pm
This is a soulful piece 💜
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May 11, 2018 at 6:45 pm
Thank you!😊
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May 11, 2018 at 11:41 pm
Beautiful.
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May 12, 2018 at 2:42 pm
Thank you! 😊
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