I Am a Rock

 

I am a rock.

With jagged and sharpened edges I defy the sand.

It is a sea surrounding me. Always it pushes, scratches, whispers ....
I do not know what it wants - nor does it matter. It is only a seething mass of sameness. I rise above it. I am a rock. I am unique. I endure.

The sand assaults me. It drowns me in its crushing embrace, then, suddenly, it exposes me. It rides the howling wind and crashes futilely against my adamantine surfaces. It is all in vain. My defenses are unshaken. I cannot be vanquished.

Secure in my strength I sleep, and I dream.

Eons pass.

I awake, and I am alone. How did this happen? Once the horizon was filled with other rocks jutting defiantly at the sky. I did not speak to them, but I knew they were there. It gave me comfort. Now, there is only sand, and smooth rock colored lumps, where they stood.

I am afraid. My craggy prominence's have become gentle burls. My massive bulwark smoothed away by the strokes of billions of tiny laborers whose voices relentlessly insinuate themselves in my awareness. They have reduced me. I am lost.

I struggle between dreams of myself as rock and dreams of myself as sand. The work continues inexorably.

 

Stripped of my defenses, wonderous understanding dawns within me. What I once thought a clone army, is a dazzling panoply of unique colors, textures and shapes. Rich bits and pieces, of myself and the others, who once formed the rocks of barren plains.

I feared I would lose myself. Instead, I have found myself. I have not been defeated by an enemy, I have been rescued by friends. This is my community, my offspring, my family.

I am the sand.

Reviews

[Humberto Abreu]

I have no experience writing poetry so I welcome your critique. In fact, I am not sure this can even be termed poetry. It is only a free flowing expression of my ideas buttressed by what words I could find to contain them. I invite you to comment.