Go somewhere ancient.

See the rivers, the oceans,

the sands, the grasses, the trees,

the bushes, the rocks, the shells.

See how they exist and perform

with no mind.

They are governed by the Great Mind.

Every second, every day, every year, for thousands.

Bending, but not breaking.

Battered, but not exhausted.

Built for rain, or hail, or shine.

Each doing their God-ordained job

without competition, without complaint.

Content to play their role in the ecosystem.

Their proclamation is humble,

their testimony silent.

Their beauty comes from flourishing where they are planted.

Their greens, blues, and browns are gloriously boring.

Their glory is in their selfless unity.

Demanding respect without attention,

honour without worship.

Praise to the One, of whom these rocks cry out –

the rock of ages.

Go somewhere ancient.

Know someone ancient – the ancient of days.