About That Stone

One day, you'll want to throw it at me.
Remember who put it into your hand.
Yes, words are riddles.
Life, too.

We'll get there.
Let's take the long way.
Write a book, see a movie.
Take in a sunset.

Stop for a sandwich.
Look for the Grand Canyon.
It's somewhere out west.
Later we can dip our feet in the Pacific.

In the meantime, stop asking how much you are worth.
You are worth precisely one lifetime,
Not a second more.
The deed is paid. Live in it freely.

There's time still for moonrise and sunset.
There's time still for joy.
There are many hours left to live,
And many hands to hold not holding stones.

If there were a simpler way to explain it,
I wouldn't have had to give it to you.
It's just a rock,
Though more ancient than Adam and Eve.

It means nothing but what you want it to mean.
It means the stars have been here a long time.
It means you are forgiven.
It means someone gave you a gift.

If you prefer, the stone is a heavy heart that you can see with your eyes,
And kiss with your lips.
It will teach you what to keep,
And what to throw away from you.