The stone

The stone falls in the water,

and sinks to the dark and murky

mud that hides its presence

from the world, and its falling

is but a memory in the minds

of those creatures who saw it fall

but then never gave it another

thought about what it fell for.


But up above the mud and

the still surface of the primal wet

the ripples go on and on and on,

across the water, across the expanse,

across the seas with all their

turbulence and eternity,

to the shore on the other side,

where the slight disturbance

in the revolution, ocean deep,

becomes a moment in the earth’s course.