The trees grew straight
but the ground grew crooked
I stepped lightly through the mist
and wondered
if anyone was here before

There are steps
and litter
I can see people ahead
all the signs that people have been
but have they really
been Here

Because how can you be here
noticing the mist
the mist that is not Scary
but Beautiful
Beauty
noticing the trees
the trees that grew straight
some may look crooked
but they are all straight
you can tell
Majesty

How can you be here
and notice these things
and leave litter
and build steps
just so more people can come
not to see
but to look
not to come
but to go
Not to Be