Thanks For sending this Michael. I love it.
Skimming Stones (Wharfedale)
We were skimming stones, me and my child;
Skimming round, blue, strewn stones
Into the stream. It is everyone’s
Dream that the stream can be filled.
Why this urge no one resists? By a bend,
Where a hill stream quickens over stones
This thickens like a trend –
Parents and children damp their hands,
Walkers pause to stretch themselves, end..
Why this urge resisted by no one?
Why this centre?
We return to the truculent stream,
The stones we skim enter,
Dreams ripple and grow,
Ripple and go.
Somewhere bone
Breaks, cities fall,
Children scream.
Still, here we throw stones
Into the centre of the stream.
Why is this done by everyone?
Why this mission? ;
Dry walkers, the delicate child,
The parent; all of them add to the water
But the water flows on over stone
Walls, cumulate dams.
The failure of stones
Leaves every one’s
Dreams unfulfilled.
No one will cease from it, no one.
All are skimming, throwing;
All wish to remain, to build, to be doing.
The water will rise, that’s as maybe;
Maybe all but the finest stones,
Strongest bone, greatest city
Or child fall again
But still we are skimming stones
Into the water, the centre, the stream.
Michael Docker
