Roman Ruins

I stood atop the forum’s steps,
where words once were spoken
of truths eternal—love
for wise and good existence.

I walked between the stones
and pillars, that once sustained
steady forms of glory—virtue
and holy alliance to powers salvific.

In binding awe,
I bowed ahead
before its majesty:
my ancient home.

Then, I heard, the modern choir,
in crooked tune, pontificate,
on what to do, with matters past.
“In evil’s name, eradicate!”

Alas today must
—drop—
the weight of then,
lest it choke and perish.

Yet: ought the act be so
profound?
The hammer so cruelly fatal?
The temple fall forever?

Nay, I say, o modern friends:
let us turn with scolding eye
to reprimand
the wrongs that be.

But let us, too, with reverence,
take the boon of yesterday.
For it may heal, the ills that plague,
us wretched beings.

Let us save, with steadfast heart, the fertile
ground where we once rose.
Light—atop the ruins forgotten
an old world anew.

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