Stone's Secret

Source: Pixabay

Otter-smooth boulder

lies under rolling

black river-water

stilled among frozen

hills and the still unbreathed 

blizzards aloft; 

silently, icily, is probed 

stone's secret.

Out there—past trace

of eyes, past these

and those memorial skies 

dotting back signals from 

men's made mathematics (we

delineators of curves and time who are

                                      subject to these)—

out there, inaccessible

to grammar's language the 

stones curve vastnesses,

cold or candescent

in the perceived 

processional of space.

                                  The stones out there in the

                                  violet-black are part of a

                                  slow-motion fountain? or of a

                                  fireworks pin-wheel?

                                  i.e. breathed in and out as in 

                                  cosmic lungs? or

                                  one-way as an eye looking?

What mathematicians must,

also the pert, 

they will

as the dark river runs.

Word has arrived that 

peace will brim up, will come

"like a river and the 

glory...like a flowing stream."

So.

Some of all people will 

wondering wait 

until this very stone 

utters.

~ Margaret Avison