Stone

Sometimes I have that feeling with falling leaves, with green grass turned in gray and total shriveling. I wish I could be a small rock somwhere on the top of a mountain, surrounded only by stones, untouched by the passing time. Even the wind can't truly harm there a small one. Jammed between the bigger ones, the water counldn't take, as he did, only wash away the soft sand and dust. The fire has no power over those hights, the peace is heavenly. I wish, I could be a small stone without the heavy luggage of life, without torny feelings or hosts of knotty thoughts.