A stone’s growth is inverse,
Time’s trials reverse its mass,
Revert
To smaller and smaller forms,
In this backwards trend there are no norms
The pebble all alone,
Might be the stone,
Inside your shoe,
Or a diamond in the earth,
Or a diamond set in an invulnerable alloy
To shave and mould the others of it’s kind.
So many stones together,
Might be the gravel on your driveway,
Lightly dusted by the heather,
Or covered in snow by winter’s weather.
Enough rocks in the right place
And you’ve got a gravel beach,
Waiting for time to teach
Every one how to be sand,
As though it were bland.
Turning every dull piece into a hundred thousand
Glittering particles of dust-like sand.
What does it take to break down
Into an indistinct sea of distinct matter?
Just a little bit of space and more than enough time for everyone to ponder
Think of:
The mountain that gave you the beach that you walked on last.
The stone can’t help but surrender,
To you or time, it matters little.
Happy birthday my son.