090909 Stone Poetry

dried out and sunk up to the neck in hot red sand

head clear in the spotless blue sky

an eye that open a thousand years ago when rain and wind finally won through

and you became a windowed rock

cute as a bug cactus poking it’s head up above the dunes

dry gray spines sticking out in every direction

captured on the fly

some desert gerbil left tracks in the sand

it is only safe out here at night

or it is it.

everything that eats meat at night can see your living blood in the dark.

oh well

eat or be eaten

A path blasted through your stone face

forcing you to crack and smile

and paving your dome and forcing molten black rock into your viens

we are faster than nature but less permanent

We almost never build a thing that will endure a thousand years

and even when we do, some fool comes by and shoots off the nose

or destroys it because people with the wrong faith built it.

Red rock opens like a flower

a forced bloom

pried open by a million years of wind and water.

A cathedral of rough stone

carved and abandoned by forgotten waters

rock like sculptured flesh

sensual, open, smooth

yielding to light

trusting it’s secrets to shadow

Laying down the bones in layers

silting up the earth in lines and grooves

When rocks where so young they were still molten

they made shapes like these as easily as blown glass.

Now they must be beaten had on the anvil of winds

and cut deep and long by rough and tumbling waters

for ages and eons

scultpted by nature into a playful loop

lost in a hidden cave.

A history written in stone.

Histories written in the stones.

A stone on a potters wheel

smooth by liquid fingers over a thousand years.

a monument to monolith

stone stares over still waters

Tears of Stone Angels

Divining 090909