Waiting to be heard,
surrounding us.
Urging us onward,
giving us strength
to journey beyond
their trailside grave
where wearily they could
go no further.
Within us
a treasure chest.
Gifts of knowledge
for the road ahead.
If unheeded
we must struggle,
re-solving,
exhausted and weak,
unable to reach
new frontiers.
Yet, they are here.
Tingling warmth,
caresses from the past
present and visceral.
In our dreams,
in our homes,
in our bodies
where we remember,
when we remember.
