A Rock

If I could see the history of a single rock,
I'd be humbled beyond imagination.
The kind of time that can't be measured by a clock,
The kind of being that knows no creation.
What am I? A blip. A nothing to it.
It has seen billions before me, it will see billions more,
The one no more important than the many, not one bit.
I am a bubble released from the ocean floor.
Instant existence, the product of forces greater than I,
And the race begins. Time only to travel from earth to sky.
Then pop,
I stop.
And the rock hasn't noticed.
It knows nothing of this.