Rocks In The Stream Poem by elysabeth faslund

Rocks In The Stream

Rating: 5.0


Bright water, sun water, sluicing round
Grey rock...
Grey mists, gay mists, bouncing back
As rain on
Grey rock...
Is the rock etched...
Does it celebrate wind, waves,
Glad to be grounded
To the Earth...
Is it of the Earth...or,
Merely effected by
The air it lost the ability to breathe...

As once rocks, inner occupants, breathed
Little waves, little mists...
Crawled paths on ocean floors...
Displacing mud to fossil...
In...out. In...out...breathe...
Hearing, feeling, summons, 'Come here
To regret land...come here.'

Grey rock, smothered...contrived...
Were you the first deceived...
First owner of the Great Lie?
First mocked.
First murdered.
First resurrected to
Death?

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Gregory Collins 16 December 2007

pointing to the sound of the rocks in the river, i think rimbaud got me to listen, nice piece elysabeth, as always i leave you thinking

0 0 Reply
Robert Howard 13 December 2007

I love the language in this poem. Its syncopated rhythm and assonance strengthen the tough realities at the central core of the poem.

0 0 Reply
Trade Martin 12 December 2007

Very well done Liz.....! ! ! Best, Trade.

0 0 Reply
Theodora Onken 11 December 2007

Do believe that Ms. Elysabeth could make anything work, shes that brillant! Best wishes, Elysabeth, Theo

0 0 Reply
Tom J. Mariani 11 December 2007

Talking to a rock? Your poem makes it work. More than work. I too would like to interview these 'inner occupants.' You have already done it for me and raised questions for the reader to ponder. Thank you. Tom

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
586 / 402
elysabeth faslund

elysabeth faslund

Thibodaux. Louisiana
Close
Error Success