“I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.” Luke 19:40
A little stone, aside near the rubble, lay there in silence, all covered with stubble;
bearing witness to much, in the city’s great days, when the stone was much bigger, more worthy of praise.
“What wonderful buildings” the stone heard some say, “yet these will be broken, none spared on that day”;
thus answered the King as He gazed and He looked, at the grandeur of stones, so carefully put.
The stone was a witness, as the King came its way, royal and lovely, as the crowd cried “hurray”;
“glory in the highest” and “blessed is the King”, the people proclaim as they joyfully sing.
Yet some tried to silence the voices that rose, angry and jealous of the praise that it shows;
so the King made it clear, for all men to hear, that the stones would cry out, though others would sneer.
And the King wept and cried at the city’s wrongdoing; He longed to draw near, the sons who were booing.
So before long, great darkness befell, and the stones heard a cry, while the earth seemed to yell;
the King was crowned, then nailed to a cross, and hope for salvation appeared to be lost.
Yet stones in a garden saw a miracle unfold, the King rose again, beating death as foretold.
And oh, how they’d shout, if only they could, to tell of the story so wonderful and good.
Years went by, and the grand buildings tumbled, the magnificent stone, was now shattered and humbled.
A fire consumed both Temple and city, the city of Gold, was now left without pity.
Though some stones had fallen, were burnt and in pieces, they were renewed and their splendour increases.
But the small stone remains, still unseen and unheard, with stories to share, for our hearts to be stirred.
If stones could talk and their stories convey, I wonder if we would hear what they say!
© Hannah Kramer