Your tombstone stands among the rest;
In this field of green.
The name and date are chiseled out
For all the world to see.
It reaches out to all who care
It is too late to mourn.
You did not know that I 'd exist,
You died long before I was born.
Yet we are of one, you and I,
In flesh, in blood, in bone.
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse
Entirely not our own.
Dear Ancestor, the life you lived
One hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
Who would have loved you so.
I wonder if you lived and loved,
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot,
And come to visit you.