On the hillside where they come to cut trees
To keep warm through overcast winter days
He saw a stone on a treeless stretch of grass.
And it looked like a book dropped from heaven,
A monumental tome with all the answers,
A heavenly logos come to this hilly haven.
He held back, thinking if he came too close
It would be nothing but a stone, not
Commandments come to bring the world repose.
He held back and noticed that the others
Ignored it, walked past in their search for wood,
Being there solely as wood-gatherers.
He looked again: was it a stone
In the shape of a book, or a great message
Sent directly down for him alone?
Commonsense told him the object was a stone,
Nothing but a stone, so like the others
He passed by. Next morning it was gone.