Stone, Beloved

Small ancient stone, found,

on dust-choked prairie,

whale-shaped obsidian;

allegories flowing in its veins and channels.

 

It whispers soundless stories.

Says – listen.

 

Once waters of a vast river

danced upon my surface.

 

I held the spawn of fish.

 

Once I flew high over long grasses

in the talons of a hawk.

 

Mistaken for bone.

 

Once I scraped flesh from hides of buffalo,

and hewed the flesh from trees.

 

Listen.

 

When first you pick me up from

the prairie floor;

blow the dust from me with lips pursed,

as though to kiss . . .

 

When first you run your thumb

along my burnished length,

as a lover would another . . .

 

When first I feel warm again,

held in human hands.

No mere stone . . .

 

When first I sense your contemplation on

my shape, my form;

the solace you draw from

the stroking of m skin;

 

                        I breathe.

 

                                    I breathe.

© 2013 Linda HY Hegland All Rights Reserved

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