Those bricks and mortar though they stand – many moons ago
Allows the generations to speak of so and so.
Who combed the walls within,
who spoke to those right there,
Would climb each day and night
upon the inward stairs.
We wonder who they were and what achievement came.
And yet we do not know their face and even names,
Intrigue for stones
We carry in conversation too, and all of these discussions,
can be the black or blue.
Within the walls of stone our lives
Will pass yet by –
But even through the stories
our life is made anew.
One day this will be true!
