The Lovers

On a hillside,
In a certain place in the world,
Lay two large stones,
Whose love for each other
Through the ages unfurled.

In the first days,
The stones felt each others' presence.
Saying nothing,
They heard the wind blow round
Their contours and their essence.

The rains of spring,
The tears of laughter for their tales,
Followed snow storms
And long nights in snow drifts
When understanding failed.

The summer sun
Made the hillside flowers pretty.
But heated rays
Beating their skin had made
Fast friends in adversity.

To the old stones
A traveler never came by.
But through the years
The birds flew by with news
Of a land with perfect skies:

Beyond the hillside lay
Country where the break of day
Brought warm showers,
Deathless flowers,
A sun that did not sting,
No wind to erode skin.

Then one stone said to the other
On a cloudy autumn day:

I wish to go away
And see those other places,
The lines on other faces,
And hear what strange birds say.

Said the second stone to the other
In the quiet tone of the lover:

Beyond this hillside lies another.
And beyond that other hills lie still.
The slopes resemble one another
And there winds, too, blow ill.

If you must go then you must know
That I'll cry tears of rain.
Only the grass and wind will know
My sadness and my pain.

But know as well that after time
Your seat the grass will cover.
And I will look within myself
To find my longtime lover.

For you are stone and I am stone
Our spirits are both clay.
I'll mold your image in my soul
Though you roam to the last day.