Horeb

I heard that things could last a long time if you carve them into stone
So I gathered all my fragile things and began to work alone.
The hope of youth I made a bird soaring way up in the sky,
In his beak it held a rose that was belief that love does not die,
Certainty was a compass that he clutched within his claws,
These I carved into a mountainside near my home in Arkansas.
Then the Lord came with his whirlwind and he passed in front of me,
And I saw the mountain cast into the heart of sea.