This morning I went down

to the stones, oh the stones!

And I encouraged and coined

a brawl of stones.

Our Mother, if my footsteps

in the world cause pain,

it is because they are the flashes

of an absurd daybreak.

Stones do not offend; they

covet nothing. They solely ask

love of everybody, and they ask

love of even Nothingness.

And if some of them go away

crestfallen, or leave

ashamed, it is because

they must do something human …

But there are always those who

for the fun of it will strike one.

Thus, the moon is a white stone

sent flying by a kick …

Our Mother, this morning

I have aligned myself with the ivy,

on seeing the blue caravan

of the stones,

of the stones,

of the stones …