Stonework

They ask if God could make a stone He couldn't lift.
Well, I don't know 'bout that. The world's chock-full of stones
and most of them too heavy for my hands to shift--
the earth's foundations, mountain's teeth and giant's bones.
I'll mark the graves of righteous folk with cairns of pebbles,
build a wall from chunks of columnar basalt,
line the city streets with water-rounded cobbles,
cut a slab of granite for the family vault,
all things to their measure. Hypothetic boulders
beyond the strength of Deity to move or break
get nothing done, give no-one shelter. Lay my hand
to some constructive task. I'll do my best to make
a house that's sound, though it be humble or though grand
from rocks: the biggest I can carry on my shoulders.


Collection available! Knocking from Inside