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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=459910" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>What The Stone Said</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">This stone: scraps of wet earth <br>still clinging to it; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">rounded, greyish; large enough <br>to fit into my palm as if, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">cradled there, it’s enough part of me <br>to tell me that it’s more than <br>inert matter without consciousness.. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">its pleasing roundness – warming <br>in my hand – tells me a little <br>of its history: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">once it was one of many, jostled <br>over years or centuries in <br>a river or an ocean bed; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">to be thrown up, again and again, <br>from the maw of breaking, angry wave <br>onto a beach; then at some high tide, <br>pulled back again; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">it’s covered with its history: <br>a mass of scratches where a fiercer sand <br>from the hierarchy of stone’s hardnesses, <br>scratched it; to be soothed and smoothed <br>by its fellow sufferers on the watered bed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Warm in my cradling palm, it shares <br>or so it seems, my own consciousness: <br>the same consciousness as all Creation’s wonders, <br>but here in supreme, uncomplaining, <br>inexpressive, yielding pure obedience: <br>a sermon in a stone; awaiting future call <br>to be raised up a man.. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">no wonder - as all children know – <br>‘beach’ (and can’t you hear there, <br>tread of feet on hard, resistant, partially <br>yielding stones?) </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and ‘shore’ (and can’t you hear there <br>the waves smoothe the sand, <br>then draw back to crash again <br>like a drawn breath of astonishment? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">- as children know: beach and shore <br>full of their shared consciousness; <br>God’s playground which he shares with them. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">That was what the stone said.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=459910" data-title="What The Stone Said de Michael Shepherd" data-description="This stone: scraps of wet earth 
still clinging to it; 

rounded, greyish; large enough 
to fit into my palm as if, 

cradled there, it’s enough part of me 
to tell me that it’s more than 
inert matter without consciousness.. 

its pleasing ro..."></div>
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