small pebbles,
eroded memory
of a larger world
ten thousand years
waiting on this path
held in my hands now
for many thousand more
colored striations speak
in the language of shadows
I go back to their liquid birth
in the fires of yesteryear
fulfilling their destinies
to be found only by me
back on the path now
awaiting my return
sense of eternity
and the solitary
peacefulness of
introspection
From – Fragmentary Visions
ponart
Copyright 1992
Patrick M. O’Neil