Have you seen the stones? Have you seen the pebbles by ponds? Or big rocks out in backyards? Or the little ones you can find under bushes? You know, the ones you take home as tiny reminders of adventures? Adventures that were huge then, that were the only things that mattered - that existed - in your world? When time held its breath, gazing lovingly at the little gems you found and brushed the soil off of through your eyes? Aren’t those rocks pretty? Isn’t it all? All in their own unique shapes and sizes, humbly nurturing creativity with a want for none their own gain? Do you see how they paint beauty with their simple existence? Don’t even get me started on the sunlight… have you seen it? Magnificent beams of gold blessing the world with an empire of riches far beyond the tangible, little columns shining through the vivid green leaves and leaving freckles on the earth. Do you see how the ground and the canopy and river and everything - exactly everything above the refreshing dark soil - is illuminated as it reflects the light which allows it to show its inner glow? Ah, to breathe in the air that bursts with oxygen, to grow up, up, up with the saplings and to search the ground for nutrients and envelope small rocks in roots…. Have you seen where the sun meets the stones? I cried then knowing those moments would never stay for longer than a couple minutes. I cry now knowing it will always go away, and I’ll never be able to see the same rock as I did ten years or one second ago, to feel the same texture like I did then, or to think the same thoughts as they linger for a bit and then flee. My heart is as heavy as a boulder, and my soul absorbs all the sun it is given, reflecting none and appearing pitch-black. The weight presses down on my shoulders and the light presses out against my ribs. I have seen the stones and the sun and their union. I watch them as long as I can, try to memorize them. But in the end, I cannot stay forever, I must go. I lay in the grass somewhere. The clouds float by. They don’t have a destination. They just come and go as they please. I shift for a more comfortable position - there’s some gravel underneath pressing against my skin. I shield my eyes from the sparkling orb in the sky. Nevertheless, I show it my smile. I know where sun meets stone. I have seen it so often, even if not for long each time. But it sticks. It all does. We have been where sun meets stone.
This was a daily writing challenge for SWC. The title is by @opheliio Not my favorite writing - a little messy, with no moral - but it mimicked my feelings at the time so here it is :)
