The Rock

This burden
Needs to go
Now that I have seen it
For what it is
A making of my own
A defeat of self
An acceptance of regret

It grew like a standing stone
Gathering weeds and moss
That strangled and held down
The ability to roll
Be mobile
Be

For a rock is a rock
No matter what we call it
Whether in motion
Or a standstill

A small piece of the mother earth
Dragged from the darkness
Of the enveloping earth
Washed away by the waters of time
Yet the stone remains
Slightly worn
But solid all the same

Smoother
Less likely to be stuck to
As a limpet does a seaside rock
A stopping place for weary feet
Comfortable yet sturdy
Quietly giving the answers stored within
Guiding with a peaceful voice

Never forcing
Always listening
Never pushing
But always gathering
Information to pass onto the next
That will ease their path
On the winding life path ahead