Tor House

 If you should look for this place after a handful 
 of lifetimes:
Perhaps of my planted forest a few
May stand yet, dark-leaved Australians or the coast 
 cypress, haggard
With storm-drift; but fire and the axe are devils.
Look for foundations of sea-worn granite, my fingers had the art To make stone love stone, you will find some remnant.
But if you should look in your idleness after ten thousand years: It is the granite knoll on the granite And lava tongue in the midst of the bay, by the mouth of the Carmel River-valley, these four will remain In the change of names.
You will know it by the wild sea-fragrance of wind Though the ocean may have climbed or retired a little; You will know it by the valley inland that our sun and our moon were born from Before the poles changed; and Orion in December Evenings was strung in the throat of the valley like a lamp-lighted bridge.
Come in the morning you will see white gulls Weaving a dance over blue water, the wane of the moon Their dance-companion, a ghost walking By daylight, but wider and whiter than any bird in the world.
My ghost you needn't look for; it is probably Here, but a dark one, deep in the granite, not dancing on wind With the mad wings and the day moon.

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