There is a stone of no importance. Grey
and warm in sunshine, black and cold at night,
wet in the rain, reddish by evening light,
its properties dependent on the day,
on ambience; volition has no play,
nor will. It does not move, though science might
demur predictably, begin to cite
particulate vibration. Others say
that Life is all-pervasive. This, if true,
negates my first assertion, opens wide
the door to those religions that imbue
the nescient world with consciousness, as tried
through aeons past, by many peoples, who
spoke to the stones, not one of which replied.
