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And the old folks would stand before the stone
That stood to the left in the doorway to the cave
Reciting verses from days of yore
And the kinsfolk from all around would gather
Singing praises to the stone
Rains would fall so hard
That we would fear for our very lives.
And we would sleep on the ground
Hearing the ancient river roar
Death and time stood still
Creating the space
For grace to abound.