Bristlecone Meditation

High in the desert lives an old pine tree

Crowning the mountain's cliffs crimson and steep

Worn, wild, and weary I now long for sleep

So on my journey here I stop, and I dream

Of the mountains, of seas long ago

Gone from time

And of rivers

Sculptors of the canyon far below

Songs of ravens

Dotting the time

Through echo

And remembering

Everything flows on through time

All these mountains will crumble down to the sea

All these mountains will crumble down to the sea

And these mountains will crumble down to the sea

Methuselah greets another dawn

Entranced by the setting my mind wanders on

To the mountains, to seas long ago

Lost to time

And to rivers

Sculptors of the canyon far below

Songs of ravens

Dotting the time

Through echo

And remembering

Everything flows on through time

All the mountains will crumble down to the sea

All the mountains will crumble down to the sea

All the mountains will crumble down to the sea