Rejections: One living stone

As many of us know, life can be full of rejection and discouragement.  Those of us who have ever gathered up the courage to release the art of our solitude into the cacophony of public consumption have probably been rejected a time or two.  I am in a period of discouragement with writing, "Rejection!" currently being the most common response to my submissions.

So, in an effort to absorb and discard this discouragement, I am releasing some of my rejections into the hearts of my readers.  Thank you for your time.

Here is a poem I wrote about the feel of community life.  

Sometimes like sandpaper...sometimes like the  softer waves of the sea.

One living stone

She squats in the dirt and picks them up

Then lets them slip through the spaces between her fingers

“Rocks!” she says, learning new words.

They never had life, these pebbles

Only moments of friction as they drop on each other

But never grinding together

He rests against a rock, the dry earth on his lips

Stones fumble in his raging empty belly

“Turn those stones to bread,” says the beast’s voice

Mocking with its moist lips

He turns from the beast and picks up a rock

He knows that alone, these pebbles are not living

“No,” He says, “I will be the bread.

And upon Simon Peter, my own stone,

will I build life in the church.”

So, they come, these little rocks

They gather together in tight spaces

They grind and growl

They roll together and spin

Some sigh away from the pain

But many stay and are smoothed into shapes of hard beauty

Points of life spark between them

One living stone is rolled away

And chafes with the little rocks that have come to join it

So their sparks blazes out into flames

And light the hill with glory