Song of Stones

I am happy when I see the pebbled beach down by the lake. I smile in anticipation of the joy even as I am on my way there. When I catch sight of them it is as if I am meeting friends I haven’t seen in a long time. Love and fondness swell up like a tide, and there is a warmth that sweeps upwards, splashing the back of my eyes.

I’ve been amazed and mystified by this little phenomenon for some time now, and I’ve found no reason yet for the extent of its effect on me. At least not one that convinces my body. It is true that they feel like kin to me, and I love the stillness and constancy they are. But there’s something stronger and deeper that makes my blood flow towards them, that makes me want to hold them in my arms, as many as I can, that makes me wish they will be there, just the way they are, forever and always, holding me.

Somehow they speak of Oneness to me, and that is my longing. The thing that pulls at my blood? That’s the longing for Oneness. That’s the song they sing, those lovely stones. At last, I recognize them.