When we were young
we threw stones across
the pond’s quiet sky
to defy gravity
and watch them bound
weightless along the water
before sinking.

Some stones skipped
for a moment
before plunging like Peter
on the fragile sea.

But the stones
that fluttered along the water
like hearts quickening
before new love
seemed a small miracle,

like the momentary
awakening of the dying
and how they rise
from their heavy slumber
to skip along
for an hour
or a few moments

giving those of us waiting
a glimpse of the final awakening
when we’ll be lifted
from our grassy beds
and sent out
to dance over death’s
powerless surface.

Photo Credit: weheartit.com