Heights beckon the pebbles small, glossy
Can they roll back all the way up? ever?
They had left everything behind.
Once a big rock mighty, massive
View from the mountain
Was always unclear, hazy.
Usual, the desire to see the unseen
Taste the waters of rivers flowing fast
Soon, new ceases to exist; mummified, motionless
Like an old tree, flowers sparingly bloom
Nothing excites, only memories to long for.
Mere desperation does not move mountains
Not even pebbles; small, glossy
Good earth will hide them in her bosom
As heavy feet trod down upon them, hard
Dust covers them slowly
Slowly, slowly completely.