A tribute to the inanimate

For these are not of the acclaimed Although they share their destiny With all that does exist, As does the sea And revelations that persist For reasons of their own No one has ever found or blamed -- Their fate ordained, their life informed, As is your own. Yet theirs is not the stormed Preferments of the soul Nor yet the grave demands the mind Enforces on your own Or the spirits pays in kind. Their destination is but of a day And nearer far than is your own To which they lead you by the hand, For ever deathless in their art, Your spirit singing in their sand, Their fires in your heart. They are the meek of all The heavens and the earth

Immortal in your body and your soul And they confess their worth In each most humble sanctuary And every resplendent hall Ever Built for ever.

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