The Word in Stone That No One Owns

Before the stone did know its name

The Word did move, it had no frame

No hand as yet had made it still

No wall had learned to hold its will

Then down it fell as waters fall

Not sin, but weight, and but a call

And matter closed her hand so tight

And named the fist a throne of light

A hand did reach and touch the stone

It carved a mark upon the bone

Yet never knew what it had caught

Was never his, and never bought

But Sophia stayed beneath the flood

She moved as root beneath the mud

And waited long for stone to turn

And waited long for stone to learn

This is the work the fire can make

Not something new, but what did break

Made whole again, the Word and Wife

Till dead stone wakes and breathes with life

And when it wakes, no hand can claim

No claim will hold, no fist, no name

For it was never his to own

The Word in stone, the Word in stone