Ancient Wondering

Just my father and I
Thinking, waiting
Finally, in the garage
Something old, also waiting
Where did it come from?
What was its adventure?
Was it climbing the stairs to heaven?
Or exploring the deepest trench?
It looks as old as time itself
It puts thoughts into my mind like ghosts
Amazing and astounding as it is
But still a rock
Also used to be alive
It still is, but with thoughts
It has served its purpose to my father
Now it is my turn.