Come and see: yes, there
is the earth and there
the stone, there the stone
the splendorous man carries.

Stone he lies down
to river, and river to sea,
if only at another end,
downwind, to meet

a broken me, casting for
his name in sand after sand,
in ancient shattered stone,
until he lifts stone up again.

The heart is only a stone until,
pressed beneath its side
of shadow, it encounters the eventide fire which burns 

between two ends of river,
the broken heart inside
its own that warms
all stone to glory.