, , ,

These marble towers –

Monolithic mausoleums to hope and promise

And future –

They do not speak for us.

Reaching further

Upwards ever higher beyond this plane

To goals and ambitions

Within no-ones reach

They cannot speak to us.

The untended weeds

That hold us, comfort and caress

And whisper to us all

We need to hear.

Close our eyes

And open-sensed our footfalls tred

And trust the voiceless sounds

That speak inside our heads.