stone

It was in my pocket
this stone
this symbol of the burden of
cancer
chemo
death
grief.
My Eben-ezer, this.
On it her face is inscribed
etched
weathered.
We were supposed to leave it there
this stone or one like it.
“Lay your burdens down.”
Left with God for him to
take
and then to walk away
free.

If only it were so easy.

To drop the stone from my heart
as from my hand.

I feel the stone as others I see
kneeling
praying
laying it down.

 

Good for them.

 

But I can’t.
It feels like a lie for me.
No laying
No leaving
No Modor pit in which to cast
this stone
my stone.

I quickly sense that were I to even try
it would only follow
rolling through my door.
“This is yours still.”
You must carry it still
Hold it
Keep it
and suck honey from the rock.

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