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I am stone.
I am New Hampshire.
Born of fire, formed in ice,
colored by the elements of nature.
For centuries I dwelled beneath
the great canopy of an ancient forest,
until man cleared space for the sun to shine
and buildings to rise.
For generations I slept in grass
grazed by sheep and cattle;
year after year watched the harvest
of earths abundant gifts.
I was found in abandonment,
when man could no longer work the land
and shoots of the old forest
began to rise again.
Born of fire, formed in ice,
colored by the elements of nature,
I am New Hampshire.
I am stone.

This was written in conjunction with a visual art piece for a project called: "if rocks could talk--stories from the granite state."

28 Mar 10

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This is a neat piece.  I like the footnote which helps to explain the context...makes it more meaningful to know that.  I've only been to NH once, but it is such a beautiful state.  Nicely written.
 — Tandisol

Nice poem.  Though maybe in line 6, 'the great canopy of ancient trees'.  Maybe line 17, 'Born of fire' and maybe switch lines 19-20.  Otherthanthat, nicely conveyed.
 — JKWeb

In our legends and beliefs the "stone-people" held memories, impressions, which could be accessed by our brightest and most sensitive Shamans -- the crystal-stone has at it's core a fractal-matrix which can hold information and then transmit this information - the piezo-electric effect and the basis of our CPU's, silicon the semi-conductor, in computers and of course the crystals in Radios, galena crystal (lead sulfide), for over-the-air communications ...

Here you've accessed their memories while telling their stories from Cosmic forces to the history of Man, bringing it to the life of the land -- we believe that the stone-people are sentinels of the land and with their memories they softly sing to your DNA-crystals - it takes several generations for the Land to change a People, then we begin to see these changes in our children as they tell us the old-stories they've heard in dreams and the music of the land translated from the wind and streams -- ultimately we are relations to the stone-people with their message of fire and ice...

All dirt is made from Mountains and Mountains are made from Fire and a Star exploded in ancient space for all this to transpire. So I'm DIRT you know, a stone slipping into clay, the language of Mountain written in the dust clinging to a tree! From dirt I come to Stars I'll return, through the fire aspiring inside this longing yearn to burn...a mote in the eye of God, toward a black-hole in the heart of space, where dust gathers unseen from all over the place ...

nicely writ PaulS and a good study...
 — AlchemiA

    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.   Robert Frost... from your neck of the woods PaulS   excellent   j.g. smiles
 — goeszon

Thanks Tandisol.  NH is a lovely state--lived here my whole life.
 — PaulS

Thanks for reading JK.  I'll think about your suggestions but I'll keep 19 and 20 as is--want the poem to end at the beginng.
 — PaulS

Thanks Alc.  I loved the legend of the "stone people".  You always leave memorable comments:)
 — PaulS

Thanks goeszon.  Your comments always make me smile.
 — PaulS

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