Grey granite priests; Megaliths born of time,
cold shoulders massive, stern and resolute;
Turned ever and always to the eternal solstice
borne whims of a thoughtless and reluctant god
Cold as charity; Unrelenting and hard as iron,
the body of the pitiless earth made in man’s image;
And in its turn, strike stone to the flint;
The spirit of Adam made unforgiving stone.
Bitter, cruel; Unrelenting in his savagery.
Yet sounding board each to the beat, beat, beat,
the thundering pulse of the living earth;
Each stone shaman, one by one and in the round,
erect, aloof; Unwilling, and resentful.
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