A Flat Rock

I don’t want a rocker
A lounge chair
Or sofa.

I don’t need
A soft place to sit
Or lay my body down.

I need a good
Flat rock.

A place to sit
Think
Watch the clouds drift
As shadows creep
From blade to blade.

I need a rock
Near a creek
To watch the fish jump
And dragonflies flit.

I want a rock
Born from the womb of deep cauldrons
When mastodons patrolled.

I want to anchor my thoughts
To things earthy
Terrestrial
Formed by the whisper
Of God.

I need connection
To what came before
And will remain.
A rock that seated
A French explorer
A Native American
A frontiersman
A little boy with a cane pole.

I want to sit in the front row
Near the stage
Where everything happened
And is happening still.

If I can find that rock
I bet I can also discover
The most important thing happening
Is within myself.