Just a raindrop loitering earthward,

All alone,

Leaves a tiny “telltale story”

In the stone.

Gravel tossed by teasing water,

Down the hill,

Shows where once in merry laughter

Flowed a rill.

In the coal bed dark and hidden,

Ferns (how queer!)

Left a message plainly saying,

“We’ve been here!”

You may see where tiny ripples,

On the sands,

Leave a history written by their

Unseen hands.

Why, the oak trees, by their bending,

Clearly show

The direction playful winds blew

Years ago!

So our habits tell us, little

Maids and men,

What the history of our whole past

Life has been!