The poetry of Ingrid Blackmore

      All poetry copyright 1999 by the author

      Scripstone

      This stone is hopeful.
      It needs your energy
      to be seen as stone,
      needs your eyes to discover
      its unrefined gleam.

      This stone has no seams.
      It creeps and glides
      beside man's boundaries,
      feeds on infinity and open space.

      Embrace it;
      your name will reclaim
      the mouth's of prophets
      that soften syllables into sound.

      This stone is strong.
      The world belongs
      to its simple statement,
      the earth to its perfect curve.

      Have you heard this stone's
      sonorous sounds?
      Listen!
      It will pound your
      hungry soul with knowing.

       

      © 1999 by Sarah Dorrance (click here to send e-mail)