To learn the lessons of rocks
take your shoes off here
under the overhang of trees
feel the cold flow of water
as you reach for a foothold
on a rock in the stream,
every step a concentration
on finding the next one, until,
as you learn to walk them,
the teeth-clench, the fear
of falling fades into calm, until
you look up at the weathered
tree caught on the high edge
of the falls the last time
the sky cracked and water
came like a rumble from
the mountain's throat,
and say, like the quiet
but unflinching rocks,
"Bring me your storms."

This poem first appeared in 3rd Wednesday (Volume XIII).
Used here with permission.