Inspiration Piece:  Ode to Stone by Cecilia Reid Driscoll

Open your eyes.

Look closely.

Listen through my years.

I am the older brother,

the grandfather,

the man-in-the-moon.

I am the railroad track,

the sled runners,

the highway.

I am the sturdy base and walls,

keeping out intruders,

wild animals,

heat and cold.

I am the hearth,

the circle that holds the fire,

the circle around which you gather,

with marshmallows and stories.

You mine me for my best qualities,

refine me,

put me to work where I am needed.

Heat and pressure and time

often make me more beautiful,

stronger, more complex.

For the most part, I am quiet.

I am rarely perfect,

but crystal glories may hide inside me.

When I am older, broken, small,

children pick me up from streams,

find me in fields of green and gold.

Sometimes they tell me their dreams.

When those of short lives carve me,

or make their mark on me,

I am still who I am.

I am here to serve.

I am red, I am beige, I am black.  I am gold.

I can build or break down.

I am the source of mountains and mighty legends,

living giants, teachers, protectors of the North.

I am the path and the cave,

the foundation, the crust,

soft at the ultimate core.

I am the bridge and the wall.

I am here to serve.