Enduring Purpose

Purpose is inevitable.
From the hardened crust
Of a molten pool
The molecules form
An enduring node
That is pushed upward
In the violence of
Cataclysmic collision

Where it is broken
From the heights,
By the ice which has formed
In minuscule cracks,
To slide slowly
Down the mountainside
Until the warmth
Of lower atmosphere

Frees it to be washed
Into the accumulating
Waters rushing
Toward the faraway
Basin which holds
The substance of life.

Abrasive time rounds the edges
Of the shard as
Storms roll it onward
Through the torrent
Finally to rest on
Distant shore where
Laughter rings and
Tiny hands grasp
The ancient stone

Only to hurl it
Skipping across
The quiet pool
Where the silvery
Shapes flit
Among the shadows.
It's purpose
Has been fulfilled.