Click below to listen to the narration:
from the yawning mouth of earth below...where iron hearts and magma flow…a stone was shaped in molten grace...pressed in flame...forged in hot embrace...time passed slow in caverns wide...the stone grew old where fossils hide…whispers hummed through basalt vein...promising sky beyond the strain...the trembling crust gave way with roar...and cast the stone from molten core...upward bound to fates unknown...it rose like a mantra... once flesh... now stone...it pierced the loam...it kissed the sun...where rivers ran and legends spun...and settled soft on sacred ground...a land of soil and roots unbound...around it danced the land’s refrain...flags and trails...the birch leaf’s gain...the cries of loons in northern mist...a heritage the wind had kissed...stacked in grace... the stones took flight...from earth to sky...from dark to light...tenuous as a breath that waits...balanced strong at nature’s gates...the deer drew near on twilight’s brim...the crow flew low with feathers dim...they listened close...whispered words were said...each stone revealed the lives they led...held a forest in my chest...a tree was born in me to rest...cooled the heat where oceans weep...a sleeping god…tried to keep...watched the warships cross the shore...then felt the peace that bloomed once more...each tale was cast into the wind...to echo where the hush begins…the crow sang jazz in satellite tones...the deer hummed blues through timbered bones...and in between...the stones remained...a balance through worlds unchained...progress hums in wings of steel…but stones still feel what roots conceal...each crow returns with data’s pace...each deer walks slow with quiet grace...maps redraw...machines ascend...but moss still grows...and stones still bend...they learn the rhythm...not the race...they shift...adapt...but hold their place...and if you walk where stones do stack...and hear the crow and deer come back...lean close...and let the wind explain...the tale of fire...cold…balance...rain...