Poem: Rocks on the Railway Bed


Rocks on the Railway Bed

As I walk along the tracks, I feel the rocks under my feet.
I notice how each rock has found a home among all the other rocks.
The geometric pattern of the rocks together make the railway bed.
Each existing strategically to create the whole, but one rock cannot see it.

Looking at each rock as I walk along, I notice that there are
no two alike. Each, unique with it’s own story to tell.
Beautiful colors, caves and crystals, negative and positive
imprints of life gone before, streaks and spots, strong and weak.

And the rock had no choice of where it is now or where it will be tomorrow.
Cut from a quarry, miles away, towed by trucks and dumped here to rest.
People walking on them, moving them more, a mini-museum of them on my desk.
Now the train comes, shakes them all up, rearranging them and what comes next?

How like a rock my life is.

~ Betsy ~
July 29, 1999

Posted in Poetry, Spiritual Poetry Tagged with: , , , , , ,

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