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Stone Story Keeper

Missing image
Stories, rough, smooth, warm, cold
singing, humming, in my palm ~

ancient artifacts, petrified
by way world has broken them
open lay alone in babble
of towering cliffs where they once clung to ~

or un-nested, from their place of peace
where soil held secrets
no one should have to know ~

tobacco stone, unblemished
dug up from its blessed burial
cries for feeding
like an awakening half-starved child ~

I am nursemaid to these lost ones
and their necessary lessons
that must now be told
because they have been disturbed ~

here, take this, hold it,
like most precious gemmed gift there is
it will warm and begin its gentle
plea for, at last, someone to listen.

Author notes

I carry many story stones...gifts that were given on my many wanderings

In a list

A contest entry

Please tell me what you think

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Comments

1 - 5 of 5

  • Night Hope gold member
    May 3, 2007
    Edit | Reply
    "here, take this, hold it,
    like most precious gemmed gift there is
    it will warm and begin its gentle
    plea for, at last, someone to listen."

    Ahhh, you know how I love this picture...& your words are eloquent, as always, my Friend...Such wisdom is prevalent within these lines...Good luck in the contest, my Sister... Wanda


  • ChemicalArtemis
    May 3, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    Beautiful. You are so gifted!
    This took me away.
    Amazing.
    Whats with Amazing poems?
    LOL JK!
    I love it
    GOOD LUCK and thanks for entering!

1 - 5 of 5