There is a rock wall situated among isolated
tepuis and arroyos where I once clambered, peering as I thought
into ages of misty past at the growth rings of the planet itself.
It was there I found the Heart of Stone, where it had dreamt for epoch upon epoch
after falling into some Ordovician sea, a drop of blood perhaps from some long-vanquished Titan.
The sea at last thrust up the burden of stone, and wind-blown sand began to erode its prison walls.
It awoke then, struggling to free itself from the matrix and the heavy mantle of ages.
Perhaps even Solomon would tremble to see the rusting fetters that bind it...
how weak they seem to a Being for which time has no meaning, for which tomb and womb are one.
You and I will be dust when this labor is
fulfilled, when Earth expels its forgotten silent secret, or perhaps we too
will at last awaken.
For we also lie buried within the countless years and lives, struggling and unaware
that we are thus embedded within Time.
by Steve
Bennett from KarmaStorm
The Atlal
Epic
copyright 2001
