Pebbles and Friendship
October 29, 2012
Pebbles
by Valerie Worth, from All the Small Poems and Fourteen More
Pebbles belong to no one
Until you pick them up —
Then they are yours.
But which, of all the world’s
Mountains of little broken stones,
Will you choose to keep?
The smooth black, the white,
The rough gray with sparks
Shining in its cracks?
Somewhere the best pebble must
Lie hidden, meant for you
If you can find it.
My new friend Bonnie gave me this collection of assorted stones with white lines. She said the circle represents her circle of friends, and I will be reminded of her friendship, in particular, whenever I look upon my necklace of stones.
Making art from rocks and other natural objects reminds me of Andy Goldsworthy sculptures, such as this spiral of broken pebbles scratched white with another stone (1985, The Borders).
October 29, 2012 at 7:45 am
Beautiful poem! I know Goldsworthy only from his books, his work seems almost magical; ancient & contemporary, holy & transitory, like only art can.
October 29, 2012 at 8:36 am
Very intriguing! I love the lines on the stones. It was a very nice gift from your friend. Treasures… I would be the one with that is small and has sharp edges. Take care!
November 6, 2012 at 3:44 am
Friends are treasure I must say. And what a beautiful expression to this bonding. From now on i will see pebbles with a different view in mind.
November 6, 2012 at 3:46 am
Reblogged this on confessions of an owl and commented:
i want to find pebbles so desperately!!!!