I Was Your Rock

I was your rock
As firm a foundation as you could wish for
Patient and solid
A little hard to move perhaps, but consistent, persistent, obdurate
A base you could build on

And if you take your biggest hammer
Stand and take your wildest swing
Hit your rock with all the pent up
Rage and anger you can vent upon it
Nothing happens, not a thing
Your rock doesn’t run away, and it doesn’t fight back

Maybe a shard flies
Maybe some dust in your eyes
Maybe your ears ring and your hands sting from the shock
Your rock is still your rock

So that’s all right

I’ve met a few rocks in my time
Big rocks, little rocks, red rocks, black rocks
Smooth round river rocks, cliff sharp crack rocks

This they all have in common

If you hit them and hit them and hit them again
And keep on hitting them past the point where your ears stop ringing and your hands stop stinging
And tears wash your eyes and you become numb to the repetitive violence of your attack

Rocks crack
Crack and crumble
Pieces tumble
To the ground where you pound them to dust
If you just keep on hitting them splitting them
Breaking them down

Now I am sand and the brush of your hand is
enough to disturb the patterns I save from the wind and the wave
And I’m fluid and hard and I flow from your touch it’s too much to resist
my strength is all spent, it went long ago
Now however lightly you stand the sand slides away
and the words that you write in the day fade by night
Now I give when you push, but you can not shape me, hold me, make me anything of yours
the beauty of my nature is nothing you can force

Leave me alone to discover my heart
To form and reform the infinite art of pattern in chaos and chaos in pattern
To flow with the grace of a rock torn apart

Time will pass, and I will sink into the fires of the earth until I birth myself anew
Once more a rock to build upon, but not for you



{I invite you to read this out loud, even if you are the only one listening.  It’s not easy, because the rhythm changes many times, and there are places where you need to take a really deep breath.  Still, it’s the best way to feel the flow and the energy of the poem, hear where the rhymes hit… most of them aren’t at the end of the line.}

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