The mountains have been moved. There are cracks in the walls Of personal and societal brick. As the flower Terra grows, Forming a perfect bud, We see in its emergence Living visions of a future Mankind has always known. The earth expectantly quakes Whenever we Remember Not to Forget. . . To walk the narrow passage Between the illusion Of reliving memories long dead, And burying our given gemstones In the graveyards of neglect; Purposefully carrying our Treasure Into the Light of Today. The widening cracks will crumble walls And moving mountains never be stilled Until the Dream eventually fades. . . Into Reality.