Thru the openings you can see
Relics of our history
Openings and crumbling stone
Where the eagle once had flown.
Built upon a high rampart
Crisp the wind and clear the view
Enemies could not break thru.
Solid walls of great hard rock
Now the shepherd feeds his flock
Shades of eons long ago
Mark the rocks with special glow.
Slow the shadows start to creep
Slow the grazing of the sheep
Stamping dust motes seeping through
Was the dust a man once too?
Maybe the sand
That runs through my hand
Was once part of a man.