I return to these rocks
These rocks are
My home and my vacation
My place of solace and solitude
This is the place I come to scream and shout
And to sit in silence.
I return to these rocks
These rocks have ears
These rocks have hearts
They listen to the secrets of my truth
They cry with me
They laugh with me
These rocks mourn my losses so that I may return weightless.
I return to these rocks
These rocks cut deep into the depths of my soul
They puncture the untouched mourning I was saving for tomorrow
These rocks soften my edges; making me human again
They outreach their arms so that I might lie in comfort with my grief.
I return to these rocks
These rocks are apart of me
And I of them
They are my mother and father
My grandma and grandpa
These rocks are ancestors I never met, but greet every morning.
I return to these rocks
They wait for me
They hear my footsteps as I approach
And I always do
Because I am always happy
Full of gratitude and good news
They hug me and tell me they are proud.
They wait for me
They see me running, running, running
Afraid I might not stop
But I always do
Because I am always grieving
Overflowing with hidden sorrow and horrible news
They hug me and tell me they will protect me.
I return to these rocks
And I wonder who had come before me
Who sat on this very ledge with their heart bleeding?
Who stood on this ledge smiling, smiling, smiling?
And when it is my time
Will I too walk into the valley never to return
Will I too become apart of these rocks
Will I be strong enough to withstand any adversity
Will I wait to hear the footsteps
Will I be the bearer of good and horrible news
Will I prepare to comfort
To laugh to cry
Will it be my turn to teach her how to stand tall
Will I too become these rocks
Will I become beautiful,
indestructible?
Yes, yes, yes
I return to these rocks
To stay.
Shandiin Herrera 