a hand raised skywards, the cairn adorns the summit
rocks balanced on rocks sell both end and beginnings
so before they retreat, pilgrims kiss the topmost stone
weathered soft as skin, as rocks always remember
Today Laura hosts dVerse MTB with both with the theme “rocks” and the Japanese form Imayo
4 lines (8 lines permissible)
12 syllables per line divided as7/5
make a pause space between the 7 and 5 syllables
use comma, caesura or kireji (cutting word) as the pause
no rhymes
no meter
no end of line pauses – the whole should flow together as though one long sentence
July 13, 2023
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Elegantly written!
Your Imayo evoked a clear image in my mind, Björn, and I love the link between the ‘hand raised skywards in the first and the ‘weathered soft as skin’ in the final line. And I agree, rocks always remember.
It was such a long time since I out some zen into my writing,,, but this form I really enjoyed
I love this amalgam of rock and humans – the hand, the kiss, skin,
I love the idea of rocks remembering. Beautiful!
I really love “rock always remember.”
Very nicely done, Bjorn!
Salute!
I never looked at a cairn that way before but it does look like a hand raised and waving goodbye.
Bravo! NICE
Much💜love
Some rocks just ask to be stacked like that. Id like to buy a beginning please!
Do the rocks sell (or spell) both end and beginnings? just curious 🙂
An end to the ascent and a beginning to descent was my thought.
Rocks always remember – intensely evocative line.
A cairn is a beacon that never goes out. Pure history.
Gorgeous poem, Bjorn. Having just returned from our breathtaking Oregon Coast, the many rock formations that defy description … your poem makes even more of an impact. (Sedona is magic and one of my forever favorite places)
I had a backyard full of rocks. My husband said they talked to me when I would go out and rearrange them. I told him they had told me they were ready for a different view. Enjoyed your poem about rocks.
Bjorn, I’m liking this, it is the first write I’ve read today that I could sense large rocks, even piled. The last, only encounter I remember with stacked rocks down on Normandy Beach where someone had written an epitat to the soldiers killed.
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