Particular Words in a Specific Order

Thousand men acloaked and still
Dotted mountain and her hill,
Gazed across the falling sky
Saw what could not cross my eye.

Pathways laid within the dirt
Tracks that wound
We that hurt.
Stared, they did, at cut-out hole
That bore our rumbling coal.

At tunnel entrance, light remained.
Through it lied the dim sun blamed
For having not bestowed its heat
To melt her ice, to pulse and beat

Down on men who turned, not stepped
One thousand timeless silhouettes they kept
That blessed, they saw the seasons past
Inspired them to last.

Men that pined to be so tall
Soon made elders, one and all
Shadowed well by her good grace
These men whose congress shapes her face.

My matron peak and child mound
Have always been so skyward bound
This upward push from rocky dregs
To halt the marching restless legs
Does ever-make horizons edge
Rise
from sacred ground

2024