studying stones

i had a dream that what was left of me was standing in a field of golden grass under a purple sky with mountains of autumn leaves in the distance…

i was in  search of my missing pieces…

looking for the eyes that fell out so i could not see, blinded to the world around me…

arms that fell off so i could not reach out to those who needed…

lips that fell to silence and a lack of will to scream the pain that boiled up like a steam furnace every day…

as i wandered about attaching parts and digging for more i stumbled across a stream of pure water with a green bed that wound like a snake through the golden grass…

the wind was soft and blew around me like a soft hug when it is needed most, by arms too familiar and too welcoming to let go of…

there in the water were small stones…

as i stared at them i realized that they may see me and not care…

i mean to say, stones are the perfect example of nonchalance…

they are what they are, they dont dream to be more, they dont care if their less, their purpose is made known to them from the start and it matters not…

if i could be like a stone…

if i could spend my days not caring in the least for anything or anyone or any loss…

it would be a great relief to be a stone, in a pure stream under a purple sky, on a nice warm day…