The rock suffers still,

And so many pass by it;

Rain wears on the rock.

But it does not feel,

Bold winds that tease its side,

Sand that taunts its base.

It is kicked then,

Sinking to the ocean depths,

Then washing back up.

Oh Rock, will you move?

Why remain immutable?

Oh Rock, will you change?

What then do you fear?

When emotion does draw ever near,

Why then do you wait?

One day sands will shift,

And the beckoning tides still;

I hope you shift too.

Or you will be gone.

Forgotten, unremembered.

Pebble in vast earth.

I fear for you, Rock.

And too I fear for myself,

For I am the rock.

-W.B October (Tim)