Speaking of stones...

Yesterday when the tide had turned and left the naked sea, I fell asleep in the sand and the sand became a small
smooth stone and the stone sandstone and the sandstone was mixed with sunshine and granite grew a
temple in my eye.  I was a maiden there, with flaxen hair thickly braided that hung like living vines below my waist. 
The sky bore the sun high above my maiden's breasts and the moon was streaked with quicksilver on my maiden's
gown, flowing with starlight falling from my cupped hands. 

And so the temple of my silence became a melody that called to me, I walked through this house of spirits (I knew
was mine and mine alone). Flowers of tendriled time grew entwined in my soul like marbled veins.   I heard an echo
across the distance of water where shadows fall into the ocean and the ear listens for the periwinkle sky. 

I found an altar in each windowless room, prayed in every tongue and sought your name with the descant sighs
of the lonely.  Bodiless I roamed through libraries.  I rode horses.  I wrote poems.   I sang lullabies.

And time immortalized me for I had become an alabastar statue, the light of my Beloved shining through me, my lips
parted with sorrow.


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(Trying again ... to write a story.  NEED FEEDBACK!)