Old Eternal Rocks

 

"The stable earth, the old salt sea,
around the old eternal rocks." *

Eternal rocks.
Forged at the beginning of time. 
Now my rocks,
these ever-present impediments
lurking under grass and soil,
pesky, heavy, nuisances
that impede my digging,
dulling my spade and bending
the fence posts, thwarting
my desire for seamless effort,
for moving ahead without interruption.

These rocks I unthinkingly toss aside
adding to piles at the edge 
of the woods.
Piles begun centuries 
before when plows cut the earth behind
the horses who dragged them, 
and later, tractors.
The farmers' present
now the past. 

Eternal, enduring rocks,
tellers of ancient stories I cannot read,
tales of mystery,
of hidden history written
in the depths as 
the earth was forming, 
recently recognized,
carefully placed,
incorporated into the landscape of now,
and seen with
new eyes.

*Quote at top from St. Patrick's Breastplate.