"The time has come," the Walrus said, to talk of many things; of shoes, and ships, and sealing wax, of cabbages, and Kings..."

stones

I seek the wisdom
of stones.
For they come
from the basement
of time,
and bear history
to all the wisdom
and folly
of man.
I wait for them,
as I always have,
to rise up
and speak to me.

I strain to hear...

Why do they
remain silent?
All that is hidden,
will be revealed.
But still
the stones sleep,
and I await the dawn.

I am a child,
playing with stones
in the street,
hoping the rocks themselves
will stand up and sing.

always...still

Softly I whisper
to you now,
for my words
are for you alone.
I wish I could
give you
all the gifts of heaven,
as you do for me,
when I look into your eyes.

If I were painting
the face of an angel,
yours would be
the only face
I would see.

Are we falling,
or flying?