The truth endures in geologic time
Where stones, in their inexorable leisure
Form and re-form,
Sifting, vaulting, melting,
Crystalize in metamorphic treasure
And all the impositions on our days
The despotism, lies, and power plays
Are nothing – have no weight
And own no time
And can’t establish anything that stays.
What though their dark impress has pulsed
through generations,
dampening their light?
The voice of truth is not reversed
and so it dawns
on every sight.
These dreams will prove
ephemeral, irrelevant
Our waking rocklike, pure
eternal
Heaven-sent.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 16, 2011
December 16, 2011