Today we forget something for good
The names of our children
Names on the sheets of paper
The night froze the water in furrows
Cold spell settled in for a while
Lingered here those early hours
Our future in family graves
Our past in lines of blood
Breathed the scent of strangers
Into these familiar rooms
They will mark this earth with ruins
And walk the way of five senses
Faces against the wind
They will measure the destination
From the distance
And the mountains height
More than they seem
Chambers into the mature soil
Berths in the felled woods
In the garden of our heritors
The foundation of future cities
We dug our own graves on time
Long before the heaven heard
Our comfortless cries