by Andrea Fodor Litkei


To touch them is to know

The bones of our bejeweled earth.

Aeons of majesty – they rise

Enclosing valleys,

Forming cliffs to hold the sea.


Rocks around the clock

Before we knew we were

Watched by rocks,

Held by rocks,

Clung to and saved by rocks.


And if by chance a miniature

Should rest on desk or table;

Mountainous within its smallness:

The Universe is brought to size

As palm encloses it – and we belong.