I collect stones,
adore the textures, the contours
the shades and shadows,
cup in my palms,
caress with my cheek,
press close to my heart
like a personal god,
its pattern and poetry
a unique piece of possibilities.
I carry a pile in my chest,
each stone covering a hole
where a life had been,
a life breathing into me,
each stone a unique pouring of glowing lava ,
flame orange dancing upon ash gray,
epitaphs shining through in silver and gold.
May 2021 (written during the second wave in India)
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