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By Rhetoric Date: 2002 Jan 05 Comment on this Work [[2002.01.05.13.20.30838]] |
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While I was walking, I found a stone. This stone, ragged and rough, held a thought. It was the stone, that spoke the path, for which I must travel. I held the form in my hand and savoured each rounded bump. From the caress, emerged a mass that shone an image and light to admire. I must confess that from this stone, I heard my story in narration. The tale was of love and the stone was me, tucked behind green moss. How easy it was to carve from dirt and moist, a smooth skin and supple body. I chance that with each year, my honor robe will continue to shed and reveal the inner dame. |