Stone
Go inside a stone
That
would be my way.
Let somebody else become a dove
Or gnash with a tiger’s
tooth.
I am happy to be a stone.
From the outside the stone
is a riddle:
No one knows how to answer it.
Yet within, it must be cool
and quiet
Even though a cow steps on it full weight,
Even though a child
throws it in a river;
The stone sinks, slow, unperturbed
To the river
bottom
Where the fishes come to knock on it
And listen.
I have seen sparks fly
out
When two stones are rubbed,
So perhaps it is not dark inside after
all;
Perhaps there is a moon shining
From somewhere, as though behind a
hill—
Just enough light to make out
The strange writings, the
star-charts
On the inner walls.
~ Charles Simic
~
(The Voice at 3
A.M.)
(left button to play, right button
to save)