The ageless gasped as the stone did not roll back down, But instead the hill grew taller.
And under the millionth vermillion star,
A man grew taller too.
And his arms reach further on the stone,
Where the smooth granite slipped became rough and young.
Like pumice before granite, like a sponge to hold his hands in turn.
And turning the stone his hands persist,
And feet like hooves struck the ground like cannon fire.
And his back roared with steam and grimaced,
For the stone would not budge back down the hill.
No slides no falls no crash
No bending back, sturdy and strong.
And no pillar of salt was laid again on that hill, as eyes burned and cried.
Not with sadness, but with a lusty glow,
For the millionth vermillion star turned white, And color splashed over the entire globe
As the man with the stone took every step forward
On a hill that never ceased to grow.