A stone holds what it knows,
and only Truth Itself outlasts it.
And though the centuries crawl by,
yet still it whispers if you ask it,
and tells of One it knew whose foot
did tread, or skip, or slip along it,
and shares with you that Presence still,
if you but lay your heart upon it.
Upon these rocks now will I build
my church with bones of sacred stone,
anchored in depths of earth and soul,
and there, unshakably, a throne
is raised to hold the lasting praise
my heart learned from the rocks of old,
and locked within this simple clay,
experience of inner gold.