The Red Rock

The Red Rock

By Deena Dawn Larsen Feb. 2024

Standing out as special

Among a forest full of rocks,

On a wooded piece of land

Long ago shaped by glaciers.

The red rock stands out

A resting place for my heart.

Dad chose this spot years ago,

On a day he wasn’t feeling well.

I wish I would have known;

I wish I could have asked him why,

He was drawn to this spot.

I wish he was here to tell me.

In the last three years

I’ve spent hours looking at the rock,

And if I had any skills as an artist,

I could probably draw its lines from memory.

The rock is solid; the rock is constant.

It has existed my entire life…and beyond,

Sitting there, alone in the woods,

The rock is my symbol of strength.

Just like my Dad, whose ashes 

Are buried in front of it,

This rock is unwavering.

A constant in this ever-changing universe

A century from now none will remember,

The renaissance man, 

whose earthly remains,

Are here for eternity

Nor will they remember,

Those who came before or after,

Whose resting remains have also found

A home on this Remembrance Path.

I don’t know the people before me,

Who were the stewards of these woods,

Those who had an impact on the earth

And those around them, long ago.

Each rock, each tree, each path

On this sacred ground,

Must be looked upon

With reverence

It is this moment, the now,

This precise point in time

That matters.

Stay in the moment!

Reflecting on and honoring the past

While looking to the future,

A constant challenge,

My feet straddling the line of time.

Breathing in the tree-purified air,

Soaking in the light,

From the sun, moon, and stars

As the sounds of the woods quiet an active mind.

I am my father’s legacy

I am a keeper of his memories

Ben Logan said it best:

“The Land Remembers”

The Red Rock reminds me 

That although it may seem invincible,

Over time, it will be worn down

And crumble.

The Red Rock reminds me 

That although we may seem invincible,

Over time, we will be worn down

And perish.