A new poem....
Exactly one year ago,
she heard the words
Begin with the stones.
Not understanding how,
she moved on.
Forgot.
Dropped the matter.
Today, a year later,
she heard the words
She put down the stone.
Well, she had no cause
to keep carrying it.
Its weight was a burden
unfulfilled.
She would never
have thrown it.
She had no idea
what to do with it.
So, she put the stone down.
The words today
arrived not as a rebuke,
not even as acknowledgement
of her actions.
She realized they came
as new instruction.
So, this time
she put down the stone
as a prayer.
Her prayer was meant
to sink down
into the earth.
Unlike fire or air prayers,
it was not meant
to ascend to
the heavens.
It was a deep
and solemn prayer,
a story, meant
to descend
into the soil,
to be carried by
roots and mycelium,
down into and through
the body of
the Great Mother.
After she put down the stone,
she picked up another
to hold, to carry,
and to put down.
More stones,
more prayers,
more healing.
She finally did begin
with the stones,
only a year late,
understanding now
what the words meant,
what these carriers
of slow stories,
offered and gave.
