The Polished Rocks That Underlay Cuba
And drive old cars
Why are rocks so happy?
You may not have thought about it. In honesty, most people don’t. They equate silence with stupidity, but, seriously, rocks never harm anyone,
Unless thrown by humans, of course.
Well, I’m not being entirely honest. Sometimes rocks get pissed and slide down mountains,
Onto roads
and people’s roofs.
Sometimes they get so frustrated, trapped deep underground, that they simply melt!
And you know what happens then.
I dreamt I was a rock one time, just hiding, with a little rich and fragrant black earth on top of me. Two humans showed up, spread a blanket, ate four sandwiches, and then made love, not thinking at all about me!
But that’s how rocks are. They’re silent, simply watching, recording our foibles and adventures, our loves and joys and sadnesses,
Too.
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My girlfriend found a rock in the garden last year and polished it. It became green with earthly mystery, so shiny that little frogs hung out, barely outside our window at night, and sang to it.
Why are you so unhappy when rocks exist, asking for so very little?
Almost nothing at all,
if you stop to think about it.
But that’s how it is.
Rocks and trees and clouds, too,
hidden in the dark of night,
all speak to us,
quietly,
But we so seldom listen.
We’re always busy with more important things, hating and hitting each other,
For no reason I can discern.
Perhaps we’re all like steaks,
sizzling on a grill,
While vegetarians laugh at us,
And throw rocks, too.
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© “John” Lesly Levin 2022
