The Secret Teachings of the Forest

i. Stone

A huge stone may wait 10,000 years without a quiver
until exactly the right moment
when it tumbles down the mountain
in an ecstasy of movement
hurling itself into the river;
for 1,000 years more
it may stand as a monument of will,
resisting the river's roar,
its fierce tear and relentless wear, until

exactly the right opportunity,
at the peak of the thousandth winter flood,
it begins its slow deliberate pilgrimage.
Down stony bed, through swirl of mud
and floating log, over ancient Cedar root
it crushes its way to the sea.

No hurrying.

An old man comes to the snow-swollen river,
carefully latys his body beneath a Cedar tree,
gazes in wonder at the huge stone surging
just under the surface of the urgent flood.
Rooted in his calm and steady gaze
he retires from his flesh and blood.

There is no need to hurry.


Red Hawk  (excerpt from his book of poems The Way of Power)


cf.  Erotic Rocks & The Spirit of Kentigern

http://wandersthroughwarsaw.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/warsaw-is-full-of-erratic-boulders-glaz.html