Gathering Stones

He gathered the stones together,
piling them gently on top of each other.
When I asked him why?
he was not wary to share.

He looked at me solid and claimed,
The stones do not like to be alone;
wrought from the belly of their mother,
these loose siblings wish to rest together.

I stopped and leaned down
to view their jumbled repose,
it did not seem so far-fetched
to believe as he did.

I too longed for their smooth
closeness, worn edges touching,
asking nothing but to lie
together in stillness.