Tuesday Poem

How the Stone Found Its Voice
We had waited through so many lifetimes
for the stone to speak, wondered if

it would make compelling pronouncements,
anything worth writing down.

Then after the war of wars
had ground to a shattering halt, the stone

emitted a small grinding sound rather like
the clearing of a throat.

Let us be indifferent to indifference,
the stone said.

And then the world spoke.

by Moniza Alvi
from How the Stone Found Its Voice
publisher: Bloodaxe, Tarset, 2005