“Pride”
- Dahlia Ravikovitch
I tell you, even rocks
crack,
and not because of age.
For years they lie on
their backs
in the heat and the cold,
so many years,
it almost seems peaceful.
They don’t move, so the
cracks stay hidden.
A kind of pride.
Years pass over them,
waiting there.
Whoever is going to
shatter them
hasn’t come yet.
And so the moss
flourishes, the seaweed
whips around,
the sea pushes through
and rolls back—
the rocks seem
motionless.
Till a little seal comes
to rub against them,
comes and goes away.
And suddenly the rock has
an open wound.
I told you, when rocks
break, it happens by surprise.
And people, too.
© Source: https://clodandpebble.wordpress.com/2012/07/30/pride-by-dahlia-ravikovitch/
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