The cave in the mountain
Drip, drip, drip goes the water from the cave
Stone stacked up like unmarked graves
Rocks lined up in aquifers
Adorned with moss, saplings, and ferns
Years and years of patient, slow
Work, first piling up the stones
Then the dirt so plants could grow
Along the tops of earth's old bones.
Finally I walked here today
In this sacred pilgrimage
Remind myself of folks long past
And their driving will to live
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