Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Small Stones: Day Eleven

I have committed to participating in the National Month of Small Stones (read about it at A River of Stones, here). This will be a real challenge for me. Rather than my usual lengthy missives, I will be reigning in my writing muses and only writing a tiny nugget to capture what I've observed. The key is being open and aware, and noting the moment when it comes. For those of you who will miss my usual rambling, I'll be including a link to favorite "oldies" that I've written -just click on the red oldie title and the link will take you there.

Today's Small Stone...

I don't like polished stones.
I much prefer pebbles
like the one I just found outside my door.
I can't help but wonder...
what mountain might it have come from,
which river wore down the rough edges,
who's child kicked it along the road
to end at my door.
So it is with people.
The pretty ones hold no interest.
The ones who've made it along their path,
no matter the cost,
do.


Favorite Oldie...

How Touching

3 comments:

  1. That, my friend, is beautiful. I must say, though, I still adore you even though you're pretty!

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  2. Something to be said for being real- and you say it perfectly. Only 19 more to go.

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  3. Really nice, Barb. - and I loved your oldie too, it moved me to tears. My family were really stand-offish when it came to touching, so I'm the complete opposite with my kids. Needless to say, my mother views this as just another of my strange behaviours!

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