Granite resting by the gate
Never shaped for marble fate
Still it held a mountain’s grace
Earth’s old patience in its face
Tools passed by to seek the grand
Stone remained as nature planned
No adornment chisel pride
Raw and whole from every side
Many touched it for its calm
Felt the coolness in their palm
Mountain spirit still intact
Silent strength in simple fact
Greatness need not carve a throne
Some remain exactly stone
Purity in being true—
Unshaped hearts hold ancient hue