This poem has great meaning for me and although it may seem harder to interpret, at the same time it's openness and simplicity gives it more depth, I feel. It's one of those sort of things that's supposed to make clear sense, and yet not make sense at all.


A Stone
I am a stone.

Though I am a solid there is more to me then just what I am,
And, although you may not know, I change rather a lot
Even though you may not see it.

If someone is sad I become sad,
If someone is happy I become happy,
If someone is angry I too become angry,
But only inside,
For I am a stone
And stones do not change fully change,
Or at least,
Not very easily.

But though I am stone
And I may seem strong,
The ocean of time still washes over me.
And the sand
That has smoothed my surface,
So I may become without flaws,
Also wears me away slowly
And someday I will be gone.

But there is more
To stone still.
You see stones,
Though they may not seem alive,
They feel too.
What they feel though
Comes from others
So, in a sense, without anything to surround them
They would be nothing more
Then cold rock.

To change a stone it isn't that hard,
Just picking it off the ground can change it in some way.
When it's in your hand though you have a choice;
You can either keep it
Or throw it to the ground,
Were it can fall
And shatter.

So in many ways a stone