The rock utters a word that I don’t catch
As the wind steals it first and drops it in the sea.
Thereupon the rock resumes its dark rumination
And I partake in the stony silence as I enter my watch.
United in mute vigil, the rock and I
Warm up at last and exchange a wry smile
As the first ray of sun touches the waves.
But no word is uttered evermore.
|Written by : Bendu
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Other articles by this author
- Orange (30 October 2009)
- Red, White and Blue (30 October 2009)
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- Diving and Praying (13 May 2009)
- The Blacksmith (23 February 2009)
- "Half-blind in the forest" - Bendu's exhibition (10 September 2008)
- Ink Paintings by Bendu (29 August 2006)
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