Stones and Mosses

This rock is pregnant with water
Strike! But strike only once
Be still, let not your heart falter,
I am he that make things out of nothings;
Craft the rain and its weather;
Make all come and go as I please.
I make this rod make you better
But bear these stones’ every ounce
Less you become to me a hater

Thomas Tee2emm Bot