History of rocks.

I asked his young eyes
to see through mine.
To see the lines
and crevices of history unfurled
in rock and soil strata.

To read the story
unfolding before us,
a prose creation, written in
fire and pressure.

The crunch underfoot
as we pace towards the cliff face.
We know nothing about geology
but figure we can learn here.

The resonant sound
of boulders rolling
in the waves behind us,
reminds us that history
is in constant flow.

The cliff face is a maze
of intertwined stories,
the brail of history
from primordial times.

Layers of rock and soil that
tell the story of lives
formed underground
born in lava and magma

An epic bursting towards the
and a cool Atlantic ocean.

It’s all here,
the history of our new home,
the island we inhabit
when work and care
release us from the world.

I watch my boy explore
this diary of stone
and see in him
the dawn of man.
History that was poured into me
and that which in turn
I pour into him

Volcanoes blowing off steam
creating worlds and words
to describe them.
The history of rocks and men.

-Dave Kavanagh

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