Wisdom in Ruins

In all the rubble

are the books,

reflections of imagination,

containers of wisdom,

capsules of folly.

 

The silent dust drifts across them

as if selecting their choices.

 

Here, tales of emotions,

and beacons of reason.

 

Over there, breakthroughs

and heartbreak.

 

In the rubble of the halls,

discoveries and inventions,

science and faith.

 

And in the small fires that yet smolder,

the abandoned belief that

life is precious,

good wins out,

and

love

conquers all.

 

They are all covered now

with the dust and blood of

war upon war upon war,

silent as drowned river stones,

but still abiding,

seeds of spring

along the banks.