TOUCHING STONES
She slowly walked around the tabernacle
in the mist
thinking
and touching the stones.
Her mind wandered…
She thought of her ancestor,
who helped build this house of God.
She was not alone here;
this she knew.
As she lightly caressed the stone,
she could feel another hand...
---------------------
He slowly walked around the tabernacle,
touching the stones,
joyous and sad.
He thought of the day they had left,
happy and hopeful.
He thought of the cold of Nebraska,
and the death.
He remembered the day he buried them,
his wife and infant son.
Buried them in a shallow grave,
and left them,
only his tears to caress their faces.
He remembered his wife's faith
unwavering
that they would build a house of God
in their promised land.
And he looked at this tabernacle
which his hands helped build,
and he felt tears of joy -
their tears -
caress his face.
He was not alone here,
this he knew.
As he lightly caressed the stone,
he could feel another hand...
------------------------
She felt the stone,
and cried
the sorrowful, joyful tears
of many generations.
She thought of her ancestor,
who built this house of God,
and his wife and son who were buried
somewhere in Nebraska.
