Mother Rock, I sit solidly on the porch
as the May wind blows the lanterns.
I am the family stone, I hold this space
while the children's lives soldier on
to the fields of hearts, where swords and shields
penetrate and cover, where new blood is drawn.

I am finally finished playing at war.
My position is still, as the wind washes past my solid form.
This day moves all around me,
washing me away, eroding with each brush of breeze,
my blue jeans fade in sunshine,
my gray hair streaks, as it lingers to my shoulders.