The Rolling Stone Poem by Will B a Poet

This world is a rolling stone, covered with earth, travelling through space and time on a fixed trajectory, tilting its head at the universe, like someone of high status, saying look at me superior in every way.
Search the universe for my likeness, and you will find barren pretenders to my throne, hiding shamefully in the shadows.
Search this world and find a cornucopia of delights, that make me put a Faberge egg to shame, for I gave birth to them and more, from my glorious store.
My stones build cities and temples to false gods, even the real one does not require them, just hearts full of Love towards each other, as we are all made in his image,
including those who do not know him.
Under pressure, my stones become more precious,
Diamonds, Sapphires, Emeralds, and others too numerous to mention, becoming love tokens and the mark of wealth and conquest for some.
But more precious are my people who are living stones,
shaped by Faith and Love to serve others and shine in the darkness.

I sing with the universe, though our voice is never heard,
yet, it goes out to the ends of the world.
Humans, steal my ideas and plunder my storehouses,
pollute me and boast of their greatness,
then call out for help, foolish children making wrong choices.
They look at the complexity and say it was an accident,
followed by many more, denying my creation,
and failing to give my maker due praise.
Life produces life, and intelligence comes from intelligent design, and what of consciousness?
But they walk in a stupor not seeing, hypnotised by error,
lacking logic, to detect the Logos,
and recognising real-life from death.

Waken up and see the lessons to be learned, even from the creatures that go about being what they were created to be, unlike fools who choose not to be, and suffer from being incomplete.
Wanderers searching without light in a dark place, eyes and heart closed, to the glorious truth, that the wise people of old,
wrote, and sung about.
I gave birth to great thinkers, explorers, Scientists, and people of conscience, to invent, produce medical advances, charities, and many more of the benefits we enjoy today.
Who will care for this rolling stone when we are gone,
and will they praise more than just themselves?