I kept the lamp through winter gales
Its eye cut through the freezing spray
Now pepper plants climb bamboo stakes
Green leaves catch the pale grey day
Stone steps descend to deeper dark
Where ancient masons carved their marks
The air grows warm below the frost
A different light has not been lost
Salt and stone meet underground
Where green things grow without a sound
The temple holds a living heart
Roots and relics play their part
Salt and stone in quiet accord
Life persists beneath the sword
The Fresnel lens is packed in straw
Copper gears sleep in oilcloth wraps
My hands now gauge the soil's damp breath
Not azimuths on navigation maps
Stone steps descend to deeper dark
Where ancient masons carved their marks
The air grows warm below the frost
A different light has not been lost
Salt and stone meet underground
Where green things grow without a sound
The temple holds a living heart
Roots and relics play their part
Salt and stone in quiet accord
Life persists beneath the sword
Orchid roots cling to carved stone ribs
Synth waves pulse through sediment layers
Where priests once chanted morning prayers
Pad sounds climb the ancient stairwells
No foghorn blasts, no storm-wracked nights
The lantern sleeps, its glass grown cold
Chlorophyll on ancient stone
Life blooms in spaces once unknown
Salt and stone meet underground
Where green things grow without a sound
The temple holds a living heart
Roots and relics play their part
Salt and stone in quiet accord
Life persists beneath the sword
Tomorrow I'll check humidity
Adjust the vents, log the degree
The beam still flashes in my dreams
But roots are real as rock to me
Salt and stone meet underground
Where green things grow without a sound
The temple holds a living heart
Roots and relics play their part
Salt and stone in quiet accord
Life persists beneath the sword
The keeper tends what light affords
Salt and stone. Green persists.
