Brick and Mortar

Brick and mortar, matched to fit
the very shape of timeline drawn,
laid in purposed course to sit,
and there life’s perfect line be shown.

The course we lay, this wall in truth,
is built through season’s changing ways.
That it should stay or falter proof
of what our honest souls do play
is incongruous
to a path in life –
thus imperfection therein is rife
with sum based in the “who” of us.

Thoughts of who we are become
the placement for the next block laid.
Yet as each course in mortar is run,
symmetry drifts through moments played,
through love and life and challenge granted –
the keys to days of what’s enchanted
or what might seem for naught.
It’s this mosaic, by grace incanted
that holds our spirit, caught.

Gestalt in temporal waves reflect
pain or pride in each defect –
discolorations highlight tides
where deep, or upon, we took our ride –
Cracks and fissures, the challenge points
by which we broke or fixed a joint
and tried to carry on –
… for years a life was built upon…
Now looking back, it seems near gone.

Yet beauty in what our souls have made
stands in history’s humble glade.
Life in triumph and losses tragic,
each mosaic, each course laid, magic!
that we will reckon lessons
within our final breath,
know the truth of love and loss
and secrets that were kept,
heal our hearts and passions
in knowing that we should
touch this wall of brick and mortar
and see that it is good.

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Filed under History, Memory, Photography, Poetry

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