Clear Still Waters

"All America lies at the end of the wilderness road, and our past is not a dead past, but still lives in us. Our forefathers had civilization inside themselves, the wild outside. We live in the civilization they created, but within us the wilderness still lingers. What they dreamed, we live, and what they lived, we dream." T. K. Whipple


Isn't it amazing; our ability to reflect our ambitions upon the land?
The hopes and dreams of those before us sit like lotus flowers
atop the clear still waters of our lives, glistening dewdrops on our fields.
The pages of our history books are written with the blood and tears,
smiles and laughter of many generations, hanging forever in the haze
of yesterday. They are the layers of rock that have molded our mountains,
the winding rivers that have carved the brilliant sunrise of our canyons.
Their ancient cries still echo vibrantly within our modern walls,
intertwining with our lives as does sunlight with shadows.

And so shall our own stories, our own lives and dreams, be reflected
upon the world of our children and their children. We will be the unsaid
names of tomorrow's history books, the silent yet persistent voices
whose words will ring like fading whispers on the ears of those yet unborn.
It is we who will leave our ripples upon the clear still waters of tomorrow,
to shape and mold the realities of that world yet unseen.
Though we are but droplets in the vast ocean of time, our actions
might build the tidal waves of the future, and so as we stand in the
clear still waters of today, let our actions illuminate the night,
so that the darkness of the past is beaten back by the great light
of our realization, that those yet to walk through the trials of this earth
may walk upon a lighter path.