Spring Equinox the unpeopled moor silent in snow footprints of grouse. Time to Hear. If we take time and silence to listen to the unsilencing of nature, we can hear the stories of the stones, the stories of the sea, the tales told by trees, the breath of the wind. We rush to speak for them, but wait. Take time and silence to listen to the voices of the earth. Rock Self. I sit inside a rock up on the moor. Firmly bedded in the earth I sit. Still and steady throughout the ages; rounded and etched by wind and rain, all the separate grains of me, flakes and crystals unite in stone. Unique in contour and shape my rock-being endures slow change. I see the passage of sheep and humans. They scratch upon me aiding the wind in my dissolution. I know the birds, and the wind, changing seasons, storm and calm, snow and rainbow. I sparkle in sunlight, am cracked by frost. My slow life worn and weathered into sand and grit I blow on the wind and am scattered. One day I will break out of my rock-self, and dance naked with wind blown hair over the wild moor. Jo Pacsoo is a regular contributor to Blithe Spirit, the Journal of the British Haiku Society, and once taught geology. Her Earth, Time, Water, and Sky, and Chiaroscuro were published by Palores Publications, Redruth, Cornwall.