I have the occaisional inclination when visiting natural places to bring home a special rock, a sweet little stone friend with me which in my imagination lives the possibility that that stone has for a million years ( a mere fraction- a breath of its earthly exsistence. as it was tossed from mountaintop to stream to ocean as it rode along tides and currents) that it may have been crossing its tiny molecular fingers that some human would come along and take it home. And that for a time it would get to live with and observe as it lay on top of an alterspace honored and adorned, cherished for its beauty, and for its wisdom as it whispers, and echos the stories of oceans and mountaintops. It speaks of the remembrance that we are here on earth that no matter where we are that even inside of our home surrounded by drywall and electricity and warmth in the wintertime, we are still here on earth.
This is one perspective that rocks give to me- that the time in its life spent with me in my home my pocket or car is a mere blink of an eye in the life of a rock, and as I tune in to its prescence I reminded of how short and small my life span is and how vast the spance of this earth. My life is a blink of an eye- a dream. It also reminds me that no matter where i carry this rock where I “take” it to – I can never take it from earth. And when my soul takes that rainbow journey from my body into the Unknown, That stone will still be here on earth to carry my story, the dream in which it spent time in my pocket.