Born of heat and iron-forged for the long haul,
At every moment igneous rocks call
And teach the meaning of independence.
Like the wind, fire, and sun,
Which take no guff from anyone,
Igneous rocks endure unchanged, outrunning us all.
God insisted the molten-born chunks be free
In their billion-year-old destiny
To be only what they are.
So, resisting the prestige of a petrified tree,
The forever-implacable stones remain as they are.
To change them, in any degree, would destroy them.
We can learn a lot from an igneous rock.
© Allen Hackworth 2000