Who lies rotting in those elaborate crypts of granite,
while the living bleed profusely from life’s hardnesses?
I am an ambassador of faithful intercessory prayer.
My eyes have been honored to see many dead raised.
Through time and space, these prayers have been
well-watered by the tears of a newly broken-heart.
Who can ascend to this rocky path upon pinnacles?
I am inviolate; soft petals unmoved by gales of wind.