which turned from a beating one, into a cold stone,
not a day went without its beat being sounded loud and clear,
for once for all lay silent, time and time again, wind blew, seasons changed,
but it lay still, for the time had no bearing on its quiet might.
then slowly it turned, a small turn,
color soon regaining, the strong wind turning into a light breeze,
for its sensing a change, a change of favour,
its learning to love again, to feel,
when the gentle stream flows on it,
the hard facade is breaking brittle,
to reveal the yet so beautiful inner self,
now it longs for that yet so unspoken, silently waits,
for its ol' fashioned kind, polished yet rough,
beats sounded again.....
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