There are men with hearts of stone

and stones with the hearts of men.

For millions of years,
rock quartz, granite and shale
have been silent witnesses—
even when covered in lichen,
they sense what’s going on
through porous cracks and veins.
They never demand anything—
grateful if a cool summer rain
refreshes their sunbaked crust
or when a blanket of snow
keeps them warm in winter.
Sentinels of sobriety—
with a diligent work ethic
they build roads and dams
without compensation
Stones on tombstones
placed by a visitor—
the deceased has not been forgotten.
They’ve been known to smile
when young lovers pass by:
They sense what human
happiness looks like —
a boy with an arm around a girl
walking with a lilt in their step
cannot be ignored.
When the world goes to sleep,
rocks and stones get smothered
with kisses from the brightest stars.