“Can I hear it again?”

Art - Erkin Yilmaz, Ankara, 2019

“Can I hear it again?” the wee lass asked,
glancing at her granny as the river passed.
They sat on the bank like mornings before
as her granny laughed, then told the story. 

“In the middle of the world, a river flowed.
In the center of the river stood the Knowing Stone.
The Knowing Stone knew everything
about being a stone in a flowing stream. 

“It knew all the hows a stone should know,
(and even if it didn’t it would tell you so.)
How to be hard, how to be big,
how to fight the flow, how to resist. 

“All day and night that river flowed,
and payed no mind to the Knowing Stone.
It really didn’t have any mind to pay,
it just flowed cuz that’s the river’s way. 

“The Knowing Stone made fun of the river,
taunted and mocked it for being simple.
‘I know so much more than you do!
Try to fight me, you’ll surely lose!’ 

“‘I surrender,’ the river said
as it flowed round the stone in the river bed,
leaving the stone all alone to gloat.
And that’s the story of The Knowing Stone. 

“Why that story?” the granny asked.
The wee lass answered as the river slid past,
“Cuz I feel sorry for the Knowing Stone, 
and I wanna be the river when I’m all grown. 

“I’ll be the sea eventually;
my science teacher taught this to me…
I’ll vaporize, then rise, then rain,
then start to flow all over again.” 

“Why feel sorry for the Knowing Stone?”
the lass’s granny wanted to know.
“Because, he hasn’t any friends.
I always hope you’ll change the end.” 

The lass then grabbed her granny’s hand,
heaved a wee “Oomph!” and helped her stand.
They strolled back home the way they came,
and the river flowed, cuz that’s its way. 

Lee DeNoya - Atlanta, June 2022