The rock, it speaks to me, telling me of the past, of its long life span of loneliness
It tells me of ancient treasures it once hid and of feet that walked across it leaving sand in their wake
Waves crashing upon it wearing it slowly away until there is nothing left but find sand particles which wash away
Today it is but a palm size rock boasting of the size it once had, of humans who, before would scale it
A child once picked it up and took it away only to lose it and some how it found its way back to the beach where it say wearing away
Waiting, patiently waiting for someone to come, come listen to its story really listen to what it had to say about life and the wisdom you could gain
I left the rock having gained more wisdom then I ever thought possible, using its story to improve my own
And so the rock told its story giving the rightful soul wisdom beyond belief only because they stopped and listened to what it had to say
First off, I had to stop myself from correcting the error of then vs than and all the its that likely should have been it’s. Yikes! Also, “...giving the rightful soul...” meaning myself, really, how arrogant that seems to me now to have written that line…
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, though I cringe at this now I can still find the inspiration in it and the skill and bravery it had to take to write then share all of it for a school project. I don’t know that I remember how that felt. To have seemingly no fear, or at least very minor fear when it came to sharing myself with the world. I think that’s been a lot harder as an adult, for sure.
Whenever I think of this poem, in particular, I remember some issue with a friend at the time telling me that I took or commandeered one of their ideas around that time in this poem. I cannot say for sure if it was purely accidental or intentional or because we were chatting about the poetry assignment that it just kinda bled through into mine. I don’t remember. But I don’t think I can ever not feel slightly guilty about it.
I’ve learned a lot about ownership and copyright in my path as a graphic designer and creative and it sometimes feels like there is a hard line but that it can be hard, in some ways, to hold to. As I think it was Amanda Palmer says in her book The Art of Asking, what we all create comes from all the things in our lives and what we consume and experience getting put in a blender. Some people have higher settings and you could never say where exactly the inspiration came from. Others have a much lower setting and you can definitely see where it all comes from.
Well, I hope you’ve enjoyed yet another of my terrible teenaged poetry installments!
—A Recovering Design Imposter