Flight and Landing

I feel this human's warm hand, rescuing me from the past eon of repose in the damp sand of the lake bank. Oh, God, that warmth is nice.

Now I'm flying, spinning through cool air, spinning sparks of sunlight from my crystals as I soar,
exulting in the sensation that I, a flat rock, am feeling this moment.

Oh, please let this last. Let this last. Oh, please let...

I am the rock, the splash, myself, the water,
again again again,
slowing now,
warm on top wet and cold on bottom;
stalled into equilibrium,
sinking waffling back and forth as the light fades
from green to black to depths remembered in the crystal heart of my being
buried before, those millions of years.

I settle to the bottom and weep.