The Stones

26/03/2012 § 21 Comments

I once knew a Blackrock
a place that holds many memories
for the child who
(then)
was me.

Now, I hold a black rock
in my hand.
Jet black and smooth
…just because
Because the feel of its
stone-cold-to-growing
warmth, soothes.

Thoughts drift above
the watermark
and:
Ah, here it comes again.

‘Hello, welcome rain
oh, how I have missed the
magic of your warm, wet kiss
to lips that have thirsted for you
through the months of snow.’

The rock in my hand
leads  to others
all shapes, sizes and each so
vibrant in colour.

I feel their energy flow
and gain pleasure
as my thoughts wander again at will
a gentle trickle with the rain
So aware there is new life now
about to grow
but,
the rarest of all flowers
is still safe inside my heart.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

I have a small pot of stones just like those in the picture.
Sometimes I sit and hold one for a while, just to feel it’s smoothness, texture, think about its flaws and, appreciate its magic.

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§ 21 Responses to The Stones

  • Shanyn says:

    If I could put a poem in my collection of rocks, it would be this one! Wonderfully crafted and as a stone collector I’m really loving this.

  • Margaret says:

    “I feel their energy flow”

    What entices me is the stunning color!

  • Love this holding memories in stones…I too have a collection of stones/memories…beautiful Piece!

  • misz says:

    the rarest of all flowers
    is still safe inside my heart.

    –keep it safe! :)

  • brian miller says:

    when i worked at the treatment center, we used to make medicine bags which we carried on our hips…over time the kids would earn rocks…counselors would as well…and we learned their meanings…they were a constant reminder of where we had been and what we learned…i still have mine…i need to go pull i out…thanks bren…

  • siggiofmaine says:

    Very nice..
    enjoyed the visuals you created with your words…
    thanks.
    Peace
    Siggi in Downeast Maine

  • Ellen says:

    I love how you went from a cold stone to a beautiful flower~ How love transforms us! Wonderful~

  • Lynn says:

    :) I like feathers. I used to collect them when I came across them, trying to picture the bird that left it behind for me, its journey. I like the last phrase :)

  • ed pilolla says:

    to flow from stone to encased flower was so soothing.

  • Heaven says:

    I have a collection of stones and shells in my vase. I can relate to your words and wanting to feel nature in your hands ~

  • “Because the feel of its
    stone-cold-to-growing
    warmth, soothes”

    I so enjoy this about finding a nice stone to hold. Beautiful poem and I love the ending…rarest flower, so sacred. :)

  • Mama Zen says:

    “Thoughts drift above
    the watermark”

    That’s really lovely.

  • I gotta say it, this poem about stones just rocks! (sorry ’bout the pun) Great sense of tranquility throughout the poem, really enjoyed it.

  • I love rocks, too, Bren, but have never seen any with bright colors like these. I especially love your two closing lines in this piece.

  • cat says:

    My mumme taught me to use stones to tell the future and to cast spells. I never did learn to love that craft, but I will always love stones.

  • Pat Hatt says:

    Nice the memories little things can spur and those you hold on to inside that no one can touch.

  • This is a very beautiful poem, filled with inner peace. You have capture how satisfyingly a stone sits in the palm and warms to one’s own temperature.

  • Abin says:

    the rarest of all flowers
    is still safe inside my heart.

    may that flower continue to blossom and spread its scent

  • Mary says:

    Ah, Bren, I can identify with a collection of stones. I too have a collection of rocks and stones from various places we travelled. I hold them sometimes as well. A very touching (literally and figuratively) poem you wrote today!

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