A Delicate Question (Poem)

I’m sitting on a piece of pre-history
this red rock is millions of years old

I rub its red crust between my fingers
trying to feel the sands of another time

I feel nothing. The dust is just dust… red and dead.

I get up to go
a tiny thorn pulls me back

I bend to discover a little wildflower
laughing under the rock…
like a bright blue sun.
Delicate, alive, defiant, young…

In that moment, Life asks me
what would you rather be?

the strong silent rock
unmoved by pain, undestroyed by death
or the tender wildflower
greeting each fleeting day
with life in every breath…

3 Poems that Inspire


Love This? Never Miss Another Story.


Sandy Castro
Sandy Castro2 years ago


Tim C.
Tim C.2 years ago


Bryna Pizzo
Bryna Pizzo2 years ago

Oh, what a beautiful poem. Thank you.

Jennifer C.
Past Member 2 years ago


John Ditchman
John Ditchman2 years ago

But the rock is not dead. It has a story to tell for those who will make the effort to listen.

Lin Moy
Lin M4 years ago

very nice

Ellen Mccabe
ellen m.4 years ago

The metaphors are lovely..thanks

Rebecca S.
Rebecca S.4 years ago


Bianca D
Bianca D.4 years ago


William K.
William K.4 years ago

Thanks for the article.