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Out of the valley
Up the green hillside
Down into the forsaken space
Stands a forest of skeletons
Whose deep roots
Whose deep roots
Came up dry.

I like to sit here
Under cracking bones
To hear them tell how they arrived
How they were awakened by man
Sowing them
Sowing them
Who knows why.

Digging deep deep down
They drank from the earth
Growing tall and strong as giants
Their leaves did dance in mountain wind
Reaching up
Reaching up
To the sky.

Then the men moved on
And the clouds shut up
Their leaves and beauty withering
As their smooth skin cracked in the sun
All alone
All alone
Did they die.

Out of the valley
Up the green hillside
Down into the forsaken space
Stands a forest of skeletons
Whose deep roots
Whose deep roots
Came up dry.

Maybe we can’t give hope. Maybe the most we can do is join the hopelessness of the hopeless and together try to arise from this Pit hand in bleeding hand.