THE WEEPING STONE

Part I – The Ascent

A journey through the mountain heights

Leads one through both rise and fall,

By jagged bends and rugged cliffs,

Where narrow roads meet Nature's call.

With every turn, the wonder doubts,

What awaits beyond the sunlit crest?

Past the ridges, past the clouds

Was every weary step a daunting test?

The higher the pathway climbed,

The smaller would the world grow below

Where Heaven slowly starts to crouch,

And the Earth begins to soar.

The valleys dwindled into shades of green,

The rivers gleamed like threads of glass,

The wind became a voiceless hymn

That blessed each traveller who passed.

For every summit yet revealed

Another one would stand beyond.

The mountain taught what pride forgets:

No peak can satisfy the soul for long.

And so I climbed in search of one

No map or compass had ever known;

A pinnacle unclaimed by man,

That I could make my own. 

But as my strength began to slowly yield,

I sought a moment's peaceful rest.

When out of thin air seemed to appear

A village enshrined in the thickest mist.

It nestled where two mountains met,

Enclosed around a brooding gorge;

Its empty dwellings lined the heights,

Like candles carved from living rock.

Between hung countless bridges,

Cliff to cliff, they stitched the void;

Swaying with each passing wind,

Like seams where worlds conjoined.

Only one withstood Zephyr’s temper 

A crossing from an old forgotten age;

Its foundations had cracked and faded,

Yet its pillars leaned with firm grace,

Left at the mercy of fate and time;

It laid forsaken upon the earth,

But something in its strong resolve,

Whispered of immeasurable worth.

No mountain tops to hold my gaze,

No horizon with its promised throne.

The bridge alone possessed my thoughts;

With a promise of the unknown. 

My heart, once stirred by lofty heights,

Now answered to a deeper call.

For some ascent is made through light,

And some begin by learning how to fall.

With a breath of steel and cautious heart,

I placed my trust in what remained.

Each step echoed through the gorge,

Where silence ruled, and shadows reigned.

Part II - The Descent

The chasm growled from deep below,

From its longest sleep it was stirred;

The mist descended, pale and cold,

To hide all hope I held for my return.

I treaded carefully through the dark

Where the light refused to go,

The high peaks waned from above,

The deeper I would sink below.

The air grew thinner with every step,

No breath but mine was heard alone.

Yet something called from far beyond,

Drawing me in like a siren’s song.

The darkness did not frighten me,

For darkness had become my guide.

The further I descended,

The more I felt the fear subside.

A glow emerged across the distance,

Not a flame, nor a star, nor a guiding light.

Pulsing from deep beneath the earth,

A heartbeat reverberating through the night.

The veins of ore began to shine,

Like rivers frozen deep in stone.

They traced the walls with silver fire,

As they guided me toward the source.

I followed where the veins all led,

Through halls no hand had carved or made.

Enclosed within the mountain's heart,

Where every shadow seemed to pray.

Then suddenly the silence broke,

A sound so gentle, yet profound.

A single drop upon the stone,

That stirred the darkness all around.

I stopped and listened to the fall,

My breath suspended in the chest.

For in that endless hollow place,

I knew I had arrived at rest.

Before me stood no gate nor throne,

No monument for glory to claim;

Only the sight of a weeping stone,

An eternal witness to all that came.

My hand urged to catch its falling tears,

And felt a warmth beneath the cold.

As though the stone had known my name,

As though my story had been told.

Then from the depths of ancient time,

A voice arose without a sound.

Not spoken through the air I breathed,

But through the earth that held me bound.

And I, who sought the highest peak,

Who chased the heavens from afar,

Found something greater in the deep,

A truth that was hidden in the dark.

Part III – The Revelation

Then the stone replied:

I do not weep from grief alone,

Nor are these tears of joy.

I mourn for all that comes to pass,

And all that is destroyed.

These waters cradle life itself;

These waters usher death.

They carry every whispered name,

And every final breath.

They wash the wounds of yesterday,

And feed tomorrow's bloom;

They kindle longing in the heart,

Yet purge the soul from doom.

I have no shape of my own,

Yet every shape I own.

From me all living things arise,

And to my mercy are thrown.

My gentleness binds hearts as one;

My fury rends them wide.

I neither hasten nor resist,

But keep the ancient tide.

You think if I dwell alone,

Beneath this mountain's keep.

But every tear that has been shed

Finds its way back to me.

The grace concealed in tragedy,

The jest concealed in fate;

I've watched as mountains learned to rise,

And as kingdoms slowly fade.

I've seen through every pair of eyes,

Each reason, truth and lie;

The prayers that reached no listening ear,

The dreams that learned to die.

I am the depth none dares to face,

The mirror left unseen;

Before me kings and beggars bow,

For both are made the same.

Part IV – The Departure

No throne could ever hold such weight,

No crown contain such nobility.

The smallest thing beneath the earth

Had humbled all the heights in me.

So I bowed before the Weeping Stone.

With the mountain holding its breath with me.

And from the stillness came my plea:

"Would you teach me how to weep?"