Stone SpeechWhat does the earth say to you, smith?
What tales do the hills share?
Do the mountains sing or groan
Beneath the weight of the snows and sky?
Are the ores patient, quiescent,
Waiting to be located and hewn;
Broken, melted, mingled,
To be forged into shapes anew?
Are the crystals proud of their faceted treasures?
Do they yield up their fruit with joy?
What do you give back to the Earth to replace
What you have plundered?
Beneath the roots of the mountains
You lay your beloved dead
That from which your lives were shaped
You then turn to in the end.
Lay quiet below your stony mound
And let none now disturb your rest,
In time the gems that were your heart
May be one day mined again.