Even the Rocks Will Cry Out

As he rode along, the people were spreading their cloaks on the road; and now as he was approaching the slope of the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of his disciples began to praise God aloud with joy for all the mighty deeds they had seen. They proclaimed: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord. Peace in heaven and glory in the highest.” Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples.” He said in reply, “I tell you, if they keep silent, the stones will cry out!” —Luke 36–40

If you should keep silent
in praise of God,
even the rocks will cry out.

The strata of the igneous,
sedimentary and metamorphic,
the granite, marble and limestone,
smoky topaz and clear quartz,
even mere pebbles, grains of sand,
flakes of mica.

All in praise, calling forth, crying out,
their molecules colliding
as if clapping their hands,
oxide rolling and tumbling,
breathing with inorganic
sets of lungs,
rough facets and clefts
ringing with song.

If we keep silent as a people,
the half-believing, the lukewarm,
the fearful and the non-committal,
the logical and ill-logical,
ones who should come forward
but stay in the mountains’ shadows,
the coolness of caves,
silent as if they had no tongues,
then even the rocks will cry out,
which have no tongues.