You tell me I’m your rock
Your home, your perfect partner.
But I am not a rock
Not one, big boulder.
I am a rocky, stoney beach
I am a collection of different sized sediment
Mixed with the metamorphic and intertwined with igneous.
I am a mountain today, an avalanche tomorrow,
A microscopic fossil, and a skipping stone.
I am dry and slippery at the same time;
I am buried, stacked, and painted
And I am a sucker for paper.
I am not perfect, not even that reliable.
I am not stationary, nor sharp- at least, not on purpose.
You are welcome to live in my caves
I will gladly house you, give you shelter and as much warmth as my walls of rock emit.
I will gladly be your rocks.
‘The rocks are still; the water is not.
The water is still; the wind is not.
I am the wind moving across the rocks.
I am the rocks solid in the water.’