Morgan watched the store skim across the surface of the water.
“Not bad,” Melody said as she walked up beside her boyfriend. “Watch this.” She wound up and sent her stone flying across the waves.
“13!” exclaimed Morgan with a touch of envy. “I don’t think I have ever had a number that high.
Melody laughed. “I got lucky.”
“We should all have such luck,” Morgan replied.
Melody scanned the rocky shore for a new flat stone. She spotted the perfect stone, bent over and picked it up. “Hey look at this,” she said to Morgan as she turned the stone over.
“That’s interesting,” Morgan said, “A stone inlaid on another, one embedded in miniature.”
Melody walked to the water’s edge. “I heard something about stones like this but I don’t remember what it is.” She wound up and gave it her best shot, skipping the stone out over the water.
They watched and counted the number of skips. When it reached twenty five they lost sight of it on the horizon.
“It looks like it is still going,” Morgan said with a whistle. “That was some rock.”
Melody glanced at Morgan. “Are you ready to catch something?”
“What do you mean?”
“I think it’s coming back.”
They both looked on in amazement. Morgan stepped in front of Melody and held his hand out. The rock bounded off the last wave and nestled gently into his hand. He handed it to Melody.
“I remember where I saw something about rocks like this,” Melody said as she scrunched her face.
“It’s like in D’N’D,” Morgan cried out.
“But that’s not real.”
Morgan mumbled in agreement.
Melody looked at the stone in awe. “In native traditions stones have their own life with memories. They return to where they are needed.”
Morgan frowned. “So when we skipped it we undid the balance on this beach and it returned to maintain the balance?”
“Possibly.” Melody set the rock down on the beach. “There is something more significant here,” she said. “I need to go do more research. There was something about native’s considering them grandfathers who are teachers. There is something else I need to read about.” She took hold of Morgan's hand. “Let’s check this out together.”
One special stone was found
From thousands of rocks laying around
It held a creature of the past
Though long dead it still does last
They call them fossils now
Echoes of a time that existed somehow
Many have been found as evidence
That life was here a long time since
Before man walked on the earth
Only little primates scuttling into their berth
Became a man-ifest destiny
Where he destroys all he sees
Such examples of previous lives
Should awaken man to all he strives
That time on earth is not guaranteed
We should cherish the land or we
will suffer the fate of those long dead
If we would change our ways to go ahead ,
But we must give up some olden ways
To assure our conditions see a brighter day ✨️
Thank you, Writer Pilgrim !
Very good… I loved the timing, and or pacing of the rhymes….and me… I LOVE ROCKS!
Thank you , Diana !
Thank you, Marpy !
I need hope every day forward.
Not the loud, triumphant kind.
Just the small, steady kind that lets me get out of bed and meet whatever the next appointment, the next tremor, the next test result brings.
The stone gives me that.
Even though I know it is only a placebo.
Even though I know the voice I once imagined was my own exhausted mind reaching for something solid.
Still, the relationship holds.
I keep it on the windowsill where the morning light finds the hole first.
Some days I pick it up before I check my phone, before the medical emails, before the body’s latest complaint.
I feel its cool weight.
I look through the opening and the ordinary room becomes, for a second, a little more possible.
It does not heal the cancer.
It does not strengthen the heart or quiet the Parkinson’s.
It only keeps the private bargain we made:
I’ll keep you
if you’ll keep reminding me I’m still here.
And so every day it does.
Not with miracles.
With presence.
With the simple fact that I chose to let this small, holey thing become my touchstone - something I can reach for when hope feels thin.
The relationship is real in the only way that counts:
it is the place where I practice staying.
Where I practice gratitude for another morning.
Where I practice believing, just long enough, that the next day is still worth meeting.
Even if the magic is only the magic I lend it,
I keep lending it.
Because I need the hope.
And the stone, patient and silent, keeps receiving whatever hope I have left to give... and returning it to me, day after day.
A Grandfather Stone
Flup, flup, flup, flup.
Morgan watched the store skim across the surface of the water.
“Not bad,” Melody said as she walked up beside her boyfriend. “Watch this.” She wound up and sent her stone flying across the waves.
“13!” exclaimed Morgan with a touch of envy. “I don’t think I have ever had a number that high.
Melody laughed. “I got lucky.”
“We should all have such luck,” Morgan replied.
Melody scanned the rocky shore for a new flat stone. She spotted the perfect stone, bent over and picked it up. “Hey look at this,” she said to Morgan as she turned the stone over.
“That’s interesting,” Morgan said, “A stone inlaid on another, one embedded in miniature.”
Melody walked to the water’s edge. “I heard something about stones like this but I don’t remember what it is.” She wound up and gave it her best shot, skipping the stone out over the water.
They watched and counted the number of skips. When it reached twenty five they lost sight of it on the horizon.
“It looks like it is still going,” Morgan said with a whistle. “That was some rock.”
Melody glanced at Morgan. “Are you ready to catch something?”
“What do you mean?”
“I think it’s coming back.”
They both looked on in amazement. Morgan stepped in front of Melody and held his hand out. The rock bounded off the last wave and nestled gently into his hand. He handed it to Melody.
“I remember where I saw something about rocks like this,” Melody said as she scrunched her face.
“It’s like in D’N’D,” Morgan cried out.
“But that’s not real.”
Morgan mumbled in agreement.
Melody looked at the stone in awe. “In native traditions stones have their own life with memories. They return to where they are needed.”
Morgan frowned. “So when we skipped it we undid the balance on this beach and it returned to maintain the balance?”
“Possibly.” Melody set the rock down on the beach. “There is something more significant here,” she said. “I need to go do more research. There was something about native’s considering them grandfathers who are teachers. There is something else I need to read about.” She took hold of Morgan's hand. “Let’s check this out together.”