The Stone

Out on a quiet country road
I picked up a single stone,
Gazed at it lying in my hand;
Like me, it seemed all alone.

I thought how, just the same as me,
The stone had lost its place
And, just like me, it seemed to have
No purpose and no face.

But, when I took it home with me
And polished it for awhile,
I found its hidden colours and
It's beauty made me smile.

And, then, I had a second thought.
This stone is so much like me.
Just look beneath my surface and
What colours you will see.

I suspect this truth must also be
A truth that's for everyone.
Let's look beneath their surfaces.
We may find a golden sun.


© 2002  Pam H. Murray


May 23, 2002