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.