Stone,
glass. born
of sand. ancient,
speaking of myth.
misted core
speaking of
dawn

Scented
with moss, green
as light moves
through. left by
lakeside

Patterns
shifting within
bands of lines, forms
hinting at secrets
within.

Time
worn, smoothed
without edges -
without flaws -
immortal.

Waiting
The dragon's egg
shall one day
hatch.