You climbed that final stair and flew away, but you live on, and We rejoice in your memory.
The human spirit-that stands strong. We feel your presence, still. Hear your voices as these words we raise to abide as long as the mountains.
And ears to hear, and hearts that beat. These words are carved in memory, not stone, Not here on these hard peaks that hold their secrets; stone is rigid, breaks.
No frail memorial this, but words cast in light, to stand as long as there are eyes to see