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#/media/File:Kummakivi_balancing_rock_in_Ruokolahti,_Finland.jpg){kind=link}
When does a pebble or a stone become a rock?
When does a rock become a boulder or a mountain?
When did you become a rock in my life?
Was it a build-up of little things or
a break down of massive things?
If I ever knew, I don’t remember now.
There is just the fact of you.
A rock like a tree—solid, reliable,
breathing strength as you have my back.
When I am with you, your hand often guides me,
and more often confirms my direction
as you have your own direction.
I wonder If I am a rock for you?
I think I am. I
know I can be:
a rock from breaking down massive things like war
and from the accumulation of fleeting things like smiles.
A double rock covered with bright green moss
that purrs when you are near.
Definition from Miriam Webster on-line:
4a: something like a rock in hardness, firmness,
etc.:
(1): foundation,
support The superintendent describes [Michael] Doran
as a rock on which the success of the school is and will continue to be
built.—Henry County (Kentucky) Local
(2): refuge … a rock
of independent thought … in an ocean of parochialism.—Thomas Molnar
First, I love the photo! I adore big rocks, especially balancing atop others. LOVE the poem and the questions and, especially, your two closing lines - the furry moss, the purring.
ReplyDeleteIt is wonderful to have such a long-time rock in one's life, someone who will always stand by you, have your back, guide you! Plus it seems the relationship is mutual. Beautifully expressed thoughts, Susan.
ReplyDelete"A rock like a tree—solid, reliable,
ReplyDeletebreathing strength..."---How wonderfully you've described the essence of your rock--strong yet tender. Juxtaposition of 'build up' and 'break down' tells the story of strength, too. The lines "I wonder If I am a rock for you? / I think I am." complete the story. Beautifully put, Susan.