The Rocks Will Cry Out
From The Girl Who Walks in Pictures
Anna sat quietly while her parents talked with her Uncle Atsa. The old man, her father’s oldest brother, was in the hospital. Smoky air from the forest fire which smoldered close to his home had caused old lung issues to flare up. She glanced over at the chair next to her. Her brother, Hozho, was looking down at a toy in his hands. The boy turned it over and over, but Anna knew that he probably didn’t see what he was doing or what he was holding. Only five, he had depths in his mind, habitually falling silent to contemplate some thought or implication that had his attention.
Anna heard her name and looked up quickly. Her father, Tsela, seemed to be protesting but the old man was gesturing and striving to sit up at the same time.
“Anna, come here,” her father said.
She stood and approached the bed respectfully. Uncle Atsa was always to be listened to, always treated with courtesy, and always obeyed without question.
“Anna,” said Atsa. “I want you to do something for me. I want you to go into this picture and search for an answer to a question that has been filling my mind.”
He held up a painting of a mountain. It was clear by the uneven lines and the simplicity of the picture that it was not a real picture from a real place. It was someone’s idealized painting of a purple mountain, with scattered sage in the foreground.
“I don’t think I can,” she said. “I can only go to real places.”
Atsa said, “Look closely.”
Anna took the painting in her hands. About 5 inches by 7 inches, its colors were vivid, but something wasn’t quite right about the formation. Perhaps the mountain was larger than it should be according to the perspective?
Anna sat down on the floor with the painting held firmly in her hands. As she gazed into the picture, she suddenly saw that she could slip inside. She could see the shimmer that proclaimed the presence of the other realm.
“What do you want to know?” she asked.
“I want to know what the rocks cry out to the Creator. What do rocks have to say? Rocks come from the mountains and are a part of the earth. Before the fire, I dreamt of an eagle who flew high above me and called down, ‘The rocks will cry out! The rocks will cry out!’ It has been said that the rocks will cry out at the approach of the Creator. Since the dream, I cannot stop thinking about it. What did the eagle want me to know? What exactly do the rocks cry out, and why?”
Anna glanced back down at the mountain. It almost seemed to beckon her. Quietly, she let herself go and stepped into the familiar world that awaited her on the other side of photographs and graphic pictures.
She landed among the sage and cacti and started walking quickly towards the mountain. She did not hear her mother cry out, “Anna, wait!” from the world behind her.
“Now what?” lamented her mother. “We cannot reach her and who knows how long she will be.”
“I will get her,” Hozho said.
Before his parents could react, he leaned over Anna and looked deep into the painting. His body slumped down over hers.
The three adults exchanged glances.
“I thought you were supposed to be released today, Atsa,” the children’s father said accusingly. “Couldn’t you have waited?”
Just then a nurse bustled into the room. She looked at the children on the floor with surprise.
“We had them up all night,” said their mother. “We told them they could take a nap while we talk and they both simply crashed. We won’t bother them until we know more about how Atsa is doing.”
“My lower back is killing me,” said Atsa. “I felt great until I stood up, and then my back started aching on the left side.”
“Hmm,” said the nurse. “Does it still hurt? You do look a little flushed. Let me just catch the doctor and tell him about it before I bring your release papers. He was leaving, so I want to catch him. I’ll be right back.” She hurried out.
“What in the heck does back pain have to do with lung problems?” asked Tsela.
“I don’t know. You think of some symptoms that won’t land me on a respirator for weeks.”
Anna’s mother, Johona, put up her hand in a gesture of reconciliation.
“Let’s…” she started.
Suddenly, Hozho sat up. He stood up and sat down again on the chair.
“She wouldn’t let me stay,” he said. “Some ancient woman said I am not old enough to understand what the earth and the mountains mean. She looked all crumbly like a mountain herself.”
“Where’s Anna?” his mother said, leaning over to smooth his hair back from his brow.
“She’s miles away. I saw her climbing up the mountain in the picture, but she didn’t answer when I called. Then the woman came and told me that I have to come back.”
He picked up the toy and started to turn it over again in his hands. “Why should they cry out?” he said softly. “I wouldn’t. It’s better to be quiet.”
Meanwhile, Anna climbed. She didn’t know how she was going to find out from a mountain what rocks have to say, but she felt she should get to the stop of the mountain and see what happened then.
She heard a screech and lifted her head to the sky. It was an eagle!
“Why do the rocks cry out?” she called to him. “What do rocks have to say?”
The eagle wheeled around over her, as though he was responding to her words. Anna started to climb again. She was nearing the crest of the mountain. She raised her eyes again and saw a woman standing at the top of the mountain.
Anna bowed her head respectfully in acknowledgment. “Hello,” she said, shyly before going to stand before the old woman. “I am here to ask questions for my uncle.”
“I know,” said the woman. “I am the earth mother. They are good questions. The eagle did well to summon you. Time is passing and a new era is at hand. You wish to know why my children, the rocks, will cry out.”
“Yes,” said Anna. “Thank you for your gracious answers.”
“Graciousness matters. So does self-belief, awareness, harmony, kindness, acceptance, and communication with this realm. This realm surrounds everyone whether they acknowledge it or not. This is why the rocks cry out. They cry out to be heard because there is too much silence from mankind in the face of the constant outpouring form the wind, the skies, the earth, the animals, the plants, and all of creation.”
“The rocks can keep silent no longer. Even the dead will rise in joy as the earth spins and the times change. Rejoicing is at hand! Great trouble looms ahead, but the gracious end is promised and will arrive in its time. After that, fulfillment.”
The old woman continued. “But what about mankind? Is it for the animals and plants and winds to proclaim the glory of the Creator and the greatness of eternity which unfolds around us? Shall they shout aloud while the people go about their own selfish business, deaf and blind to their heritage? We were created one for another, and each should partake and help others. The rocks cry out in dismay. Rocks are children of the earth, children of the mountains, and of the ground, and of the depth of the deep, deep earth.”
“The rocks cry out, ‘Unity!’ Shall the rivers reject the rocks? Shall the rocks reject the wind and the air? Why do humans reject one another when we are all one? Awaken! Respect and honor where honor is due. Changes are coming. Listen! Prepare to hear, prepare to see. Trust and believe. Honor all, rejecting none. ‘Unity!’ say the rocks. Listen!’”
The old woman turned her eyes onto Anna’s uplifted face. “Go in peace, daughter,” she said. “Tell your uncle that the rocks cry out for him. They cry out for everyone who does not cry out themselves. They cry for me, for the wind, for the water and the air and the good that flows where it is allowed. Heed the rocks, daughter. Teach others to enter the realm of connection. Listen to the flowers and the trees. Respect the wisdom of the animals. Stop and hear the wind. Love. Share. Patience will be rewarded as the times pass and a new world emerges.”
Anna took a deep breath. She felt as though she had not been breathing, that maybe she never had been breathing. She smiled at the earth mother. “Thank you,” she said. “I will pass on the message to Uncle Atsa, and to my parents, and my friends, and to everyone I can.”
“Good. Go home now. I will see you again. Rejoice! Times will once again be better and there will be unity. Be patient, for this is true.”
The old woman leaned forward and put something into Anna’s hand. It seemed to come directly from the palm of her hand, as though it had been a part of her. Anna looked down and saw a beautiful oval white stone, worn smooth by friction. She wanted to say thank you again, but she felt herself slipping away and entering her physical body again.
Anna opened her eyes and investigated what she held in her hands. Normally, she could not bring anything from the other realm into her own world, but there in her hand was a lovely white stone. She looked up to see her uncle and her parents standing by the hospital bed, looking at her.
“I know why the rocks cry out, Uncle Atsa. Your eagle guided me to the earth mother, high up on the mountain. Let’s go home and I will share with you what I learned from her.”
Anna heard her name and looked up quickly. Her father, Tsela, seemed to be protesting but the old man was gesturing and striving to sit up at the same time.
“Anna, come here,” her father said.
She stood and approached the bed respectfully. Uncle Atsa was always to be listened to, always treated with courtesy, and always obeyed without question.
“Anna,” said Atsa. “I want you to do something for me. I want you to go into this picture and search for an answer to a question that has been filling my mind.”
He held up a painting of a mountain. It was clear by the uneven lines and the simplicity of the picture that it was not a real picture from a real place. It was someone’s idealized painting of a purple mountain, with scattered sage in the foreground.
“I don’t think I can,” she said. “I can only go to real places.”
Atsa said, “Look closely.”
Anna took the painting in her hands. About 5 inches by 7 inches, its colors were vivid, but something wasn’t quite right about the formation. Perhaps the mountain was larger than it should be according to the perspective?
Anna sat down on the floor with the painting held firmly in her hands. As she gazed into the picture, she suddenly saw that she could slip inside. She could see the shimmer that proclaimed the presence of the other realm.
“What do you want to know?” she asked.
“I want to know what the rocks cry out to the Creator. What do rocks have to say? Rocks come from the mountains and are a part of the earth. Before the fire, I dreamt of an eagle who flew high above me and called down, ‘The rocks will cry out! The rocks will cry out!’ It has been said that the rocks will cry out at the approach of the Creator. Since the dream, I cannot stop thinking about it. What did the eagle want me to know? What exactly do the rocks cry out, and why?”
Anna glanced back down at the mountain. It almost seemed to beckon her. Quietly, she let herself go and stepped into the familiar world that awaited her on the other side of photographs and graphic pictures.
She landed among the sage and cacti and started walking quickly towards the mountain. She did not hear her mother cry out, “Anna, wait!” from the world behind her.
“Now what?” lamented her mother. “We cannot reach her and who knows how long she will be.”
“I will get her,” Hozho said.
Before his parents could react, he leaned over Anna and looked deep into the painting. His body slumped down over hers.
The three adults exchanged glances.
“I thought you were supposed to be released today, Atsa,” the children’s father said accusingly. “Couldn’t you have waited?”
Just then a nurse bustled into the room. She looked at the children on the floor with surprise.
“We had them up all night,” said their mother. “We told them they could take a nap while we talk and they both simply crashed. We won’t bother them until we know more about how Atsa is doing.”
“My lower back is killing me,” said Atsa. “I felt great until I stood up, and then my back started aching on the left side.”
“Hmm,” said the nurse. “Does it still hurt? You do look a little flushed. Let me just catch the doctor and tell him about it before I bring your release papers. He was leaving, so I want to catch him. I’ll be right back.” She hurried out.
“What in the heck does back pain have to do with lung problems?” asked Tsela.
“I don’t know. You think of some symptoms that won’t land me on a respirator for weeks.”
Anna’s mother, Johona, put up her hand in a gesture of reconciliation.
“Let’s…” she started.
Suddenly, Hozho sat up. He stood up and sat down again on the chair.
“She wouldn’t let me stay,” he said. “Some ancient woman said I am not old enough to understand what the earth and the mountains mean. She looked all crumbly like a mountain herself.”
“Where’s Anna?” his mother said, leaning over to smooth his hair back from his brow.
“She’s miles away. I saw her climbing up the mountain in the picture, but she didn’t answer when I called. Then the woman came and told me that I have to come back.”
He picked up the toy and started to turn it over again in his hands. “Why should they cry out?” he said softly. “I wouldn’t. It’s better to be quiet.”
Meanwhile, Anna climbed. She didn’t know how she was going to find out from a mountain what rocks have to say, but she felt she should get to the stop of the mountain and see what happened then.
She heard a screech and lifted her head to the sky. It was an eagle!
“Why do the rocks cry out?” she called to him. “What do rocks have to say?”
The eagle wheeled around over her, as though he was responding to her words. Anna started to climb again. She was nearing the crest of the mountain. She raised her eyes again and saw a woman standing at the top of the mountain.
Anna bowed her head respectfully in acknowledgment. “Hello,” she said, shyly before going to stand before the old woman. “I am here to ask questions for my uncle.”
“I know,” said the woman. “I am the earth mother. They are good questions. The eagle did well to summon you. Time is passing and a new era is at hand. You wish to know why my children, the rocks, will cry out.”
“Yes,” said Anna. “Thank you for your gracious answers.”
“Graciousness matters. So does self-belief, awareness, harmony, kindness, acceptance, and communication with this realm. This realm surrounds everyone whether they acknowledge it or not. This is why the rocks cry out. They cry out to be heard because there is too much silence from mankind in the face of the constant outpouring form the wind, the skies, the earth, the animals, the plants, and all of creation.”
“The rocks can keep silent no longer. Even the dead will rise in joy as the earth spins and the times change. Rejoicing is at hand! Great trouble looms ahead, but the gracious end is promised and will arrive in its time. After that, fulfillment.”
The old woman continued. “But what about mankind? Is it for the animals and plants and winds to proclaim the glory of the Creator and the greatness of eternity which unfolds around us? Shall they shout aloud while the people go about their own selfish business, deaf and blind to their heritage? We were created one for another, and each should partake and help others. The rocks cry out in dismay. Rocks are children of the earth, children of the mountains, and of the ground, and of the depth of the deep, deep earth.”
“The rocks cry out, ‘Unity!’ Shall the rivers reject the rocks? Shall the rocks reject the wind and the air? Why do humans reject one another when we are all one? Awaken! Respect and honor where honor is due. Changes are coming. Listen! Prepare to hear, prepare to see. Trust and believe. Honor all, rejecting none. ‘Unity!’ say the rocks. Listen!’”
The old woman turned her eyes onto Anna’s uplifted face. “Go in peace, daughter,” she said. “Tell your uncle that the rocks cry out for him. They cry out for everyone who does not cry out themselves. They cry for me, for the wind, for the water and the air and the good that flows where it is allowed. Heed the rocks, daughter. Teach others to enter the realm of connection. Listen to the flowers and the trees. Respect the wisdom of the animals. Stop and hear the wind. Love. Share. Patience will be rewarded as the times pass and a new world emerges.”
Anna took a deep breath. She felt as though she had not been breathing, that maybe she never had been breathing. She smiled at the earth mother. “Thank you,” she said. “I will pass on the message to Uncle Atsa, and to my parents, and my friends, and to everyone I can.”
“Good. Go home now. I will see you again. Rejoice! Times will once again be better and there will be unity. Be patient, for this is true.”
The old woman leaned forward and put something into Anna’s hand. It seemed to come directly from the palm of her hand, as though it had been a part of her. Anna looked down and saw a beautiful oval white stone, worn smooth by friction. She wanted to say thank you again, but she felt herself slipping away and entering her physical body again.
Anna opened her eyes and investigated what she held in her hands. Normally, she could not bring anything from the other realm into her own world, but there in her hand was a lovely white stone. She looked up to see her uncle and her parents standing by the hospital bed, looking at her.
“I know why the rocks cry out, Uncle Atsa. Your eagle guided me to the earth mother, high up on the mountain. Let’s go home and I will share with you what I learned from her.”
SAMPLE CHAPTER FROM THE GIRL WHO WALKS IN PICTURES