Frank at dVerse has invited us to take the line “The rock cries out to us today, You may stand upon me, but do not hide your face.” and use in for a prose piece of 144 words.
Photo: granite outcrop at Billyacatting with a Sheoak making good with a crevice.
“The rock cries out to us today, You may stand upon me, but do not hide your face.” Maya Angelou
We behaved as tourists, observing, consuming, enjoying, but never once holding a sense of belonging or offering something resembling connection even though that space so clearly cried out for it. Now that the tide is turning and ancient forms are slowly taking their leave, we face a new, daunting prospect. Too late to redress the past of our blithe and callow turning away. Indeed, we are no longer at our leisure, no longer possessed of our sure identity, positing who we are and what we might do as if there were no words of opposition or external accountabilities. Gone are our hermetically sealed worlds. We stand at the threshold forced to face ourselves, and even the rock cries out to us today, You may stand upon me, but do not hide your face. Even in the face of death, nature still reconciles us.
©Paul Vincent Cannon