by David Roderick

A rock.

I am a rock in a solitary place.
I wonder if anyone can hear me.
I hear the sound of wind rushing through the trees.
I see the hilltops and mountain ranges.
I want to be in the bottom of the valley.
I am a rock, not yet a fortress.
I pretend to be part of a castle.
I feel that I am worth it.
I touch the other rocks in the wall.
I worry that I might not be good enough.
I cry out to any rock-hewer that might be listening.
I am a rock, not a bird.
I understand that time and chance happens to all things.
I say that God rules over all.
I dream of Utopia.
I try to be better.
I hope that I am.
I am transcendent.
I like to be part of you.
I believe that I can be.
I realise that that is your choice.
I live in hope.
I can be transcendent.
I am your rock.