Stone and Wave – a poem


he’s always been the rock
the solid space where I can stand
where my waves can wash over
the water pooling in small cracks and crevices
held safe for a time
then retreating, returning
splashing and shattering
wearing the stone down over the years
softening the edges
a great big rock
that will last a long time
and I’ve been glad of it
I wouldn’t want him to wear away too quickly
(am I growing wearing?)
but sometimes I think
how nice it would be
if I were the rock
and he were the waves
smashing and spattering
for a change.



M.A. Mohanraj
June 5, 1999