We walked atop twelve thousands years
Each metered strata rich with toil,
Beyond the streets that nurse our fears
We breathed the air time could not spoil.
While deeper down the past was trod
Each step on step we moved on by,
And too uncaring of the sod
Raised up our gaze to fragile sky.
And as that thinning blister yields
Might we pay heed upon the Land?
That those to come will know these fields
Still full of Life and not of Sand