Moving The Rock

By Tanie Natung

A rock lay beside the path I walk each day,

Some distance away from where I dwell;

Too heavy to be moved by human hands,

And no road for wheels runs near as well.

Its unique shape and size drew my eyes,

So I ran my palm along its smooth face,

And longed to set it by my front gate,

Yet could not move it to that place.

So I leaned and pushed with all my might,

And each new day, I gave one more try;

Bit by bit, roll by roll, I moved it,

It tumbled along, as my hopes rose high.

The days passed into patient weeks,

And weeks into months without a pause;

At times, I faltered, gripped by self-doubt,

Yet still, I persisted, driven by a cause.

Then one fine morning, to my surprise,

As I gave a final, forceful shove—

There the rock stood, before my home,

A quiet witness to my tenacity and love.

By Tanie Natung