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Jan 13
Long ago my mother gave me birth.
From her molten **** in the cooling rain I took shape.
Wind and water gently fashioned me and smoothed my hard edges.
Through riven clouds the bright sun warmed me,
And in the mist life wove me mossy coverings.
Day after day I listened to the wind in the heather
And the cry of the sea birds wheeling overhead.

Men found me on the mountainside, stripped me of my mossy cloak
And hauled me away on a cart of wood, to be used for the glory of God.
With metal tools and hammer blows they fashioned me and gave me hard edges.
They stacked me high on top of other stones,
Fitted me snug and sealed me in.
Through narrow windows colored lights shone on the floor below,
And in the darkness voices rose with scented smoke,
Singing of the glory of God.

Men warred with other men, took each other’s lives
And threw down what they had raised up, for the glory of God.
Scorched by angry flames, I fell from that high place to lie broken in the ashes.
Wind and water gently washed me and smoothed my hard edges.
Through riven clouds the bright sun warmed me,
And in the mist life wove me mossy coverings.
Day after day I listened to the wind in the ruins
And the cry of the sea birds wheeling overhead.

A shepherd found me in the grass, lifted me up
And carried me away in his arms.
He nestled me alongside other stones
To keep the wandering sheep from deadly cliffs.
Though riven clouds the bright sun warms us,
And in the mist life weaves us mossy coverings.
Day after day we listen to the wind in the heather
And the cry of the sea birds wheeling overhead.
I would not have thought a stone could have a soul, until I visited Scotland.
Juhlhaus
Written by
Juhlhaus  38/M/Chicago, Illinois
(38/M/Chicago, Illinois)   
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