Monolithic Monologue

You have ignored me or stared at me for four hundred years as I imperceptibly became worn to a smoothness by the centuries of wind and rain, and the letters carved on my surface became illegible imprints on my stony essence. But you still know with the knowing of your kind that the remains of one like you lies beneath my weathered form unmoving, yet moved by time. And I know with the knowing of my kind that one day when all memory of you will have faded I will be worn so thin that if one of your distant descendants sits on me or a bolt of lightning strikes me or just the weight of air bears down too hard on me I will collapse and mingle with those ancient bones, and, in time, we will form new stratifications in the earth till the earth itself becomes aged and worn, and then we will all, bones, stone and earth, become part of a new-born star.