rocks sink

rocks sink

down into the deep

thick, numb

unable to think


they dwell in darkness

live without light

and sink, and sink,

farther into the deep


sometimes the Hand

will pluck one out

and it will break free

from the water


and the rock will

be crumbled, painfully

dismembered, and chipped,

and crushed


dust it will turn to

and it will float

on the surface of the deeps

seeing the light


it will fly free

through the air

and breathe

and think


sometimes the Hand will

take the dust

and form it into a being

of great design


the being is glorious

bright, cheerful,

shining and joyful

living in where it will


it will be free to live

and to love

and to do as it wishes

loving the Hand that made it


but sometimes the being

will turn away

and bite the Hand

that feeds it


and the Hand will

take the being and make it wither

back into the dust

it had been before


and the being

will then be buried in the

ground, where trees

will feed on its corpse


rocks sink into the deep

and dust float away

but the being’s soul

is kept, always

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