Whispering mango grove, in its heart
keeps this secret, lone block of rock
black and sturdy, precambrian marks
making it a thing of curiosity.
Travelling by foot, weary, needing rest
he sat leaning against its ancient comfort
not knowing what a boulder has to offer,
other than that,
                          as his eyes pulled curtains,
and brought the night for the time being
he heard a music or was it a voice, almost like
another kind of silence?
The sculpture within the boulder's prison
told him in a pathetic tone,
how beautiful it was
"Help me come out of solidified darkness,
take away the bitter cup of solitude
millenniums made me drink
I want to see the light of the day"
When he opened his eyes he heard
the voice echoing deep in his psyche
---a flower bloomed suddenly within
the barefoot traveler's  diamond moment ,
right then, he heard, the beauty within him plead
to be discovered, the rock and him aren't two,
                                                   realization dawned.