What the Cave Kept

What the cave kept... A hand pressed on the stone, a breath that left a mark. Forty thousand years alone couldn't put it in the dark. And I wonder, I wonder what the cave will keep of me, when my hand and my breath are just a memory. What the cave kept while the whole world slept There's a name carved in a tree, two initials in a heart, somebody's ordinary "I was here," somebody's brand-new start. And I wonder, I wonder what the cave will keep of me, when my hand and my breath are just a memory. What the cave kept while the whole world slept was a hand on the stone And I'm here in my room, with a screen that doesn't keep, I write a thousand words a day And I wonder, I wonder what the cave will keep of me — so I press my hand against the stone, and leave it there for all to see. The cave keeps the hand. The hand keeps the breath. The breath keeps the proof. I was here.