Left behind in empty rooms
That fill with light shown from the moon.
Daytime shows a different scene.
A small echo found in between
The crumbling walls and floorboards.
A brighter place, more easily adored,
This echo of a memory grows
What’s hidden by the nighttime shows,
And everything left to remembering
Shows home the better place to be.
Posted in Musing
Tagged crumble, day, echo, floorboard, home, light, Moon, night, poem, poetry, remember, wall
Empty walls and clear blue skies,
We both grow old: the building and I.
The bricks crumble, leave dust behind.
Who dies first? Me or these walls?
Abandoned brick and mortar fall
Long after my last scrawl.
Both without purpose die alone.
To give and give love we find our home,
In helping each other we find our own.
Posted in On A Positive Note
Tagged brick, crumble, die, dust, give, help, kind, love, mortar, poem, poetry, wall
An element of rust remains
Upon the earth and what it contains.
No matter what rain may come
Still there’s rust when the day is done.
Iron towers crumble, boulders fade before the wind.
A question of death and the wages of sin.
Why should you wonder? Put it from your mind.
Rust to soil, then back to human kind.
Imperfect decay, gives birth to perfect form: us.
In all this there’s at least one word to trust,
Life is life, and death is death,
And from both we must make the best.
Posted in Life and death
Tagged birth, boulder, crumble, death, decay, element, form, iron, life, poem, poetry, question, rust, sin, tower, wind, wonder, word
When cities crumble after skies fall down,
A curious sun shines upon ruins.
I stand on oceans edge, dead ground.
One won’t see death here for bright day akin
To a cemetery, dry bones, and sin.
Cities crumble and leave no clouds behind,
No churches, or temples we’ve to hide in.
Nothing I see above that’s silver lined.
One doesn’t see God’s hand, raising up storms,
And torching the land. We mustn’t cry out:
“The gods! The gods!”. We’re to blame. On this shore,
I meet the sand and the waves, still with doubt,
God in His heaven, all’s right with the world.
I look on, as this too becomes unfurled.
Posted in Life (or something like it)
Tagged church, city, crumble, death, God, heaven, ocean, poetry, shore, sin, storm, sun, temple, torch, unfurl, world