stop and gaze as the sacred edifice crumbles. should one pause in thought, or cease to pray? should mourning overweigh the joy of death bringing life? should we stop and throw stones as the mighty fall?
i desire to gaze into the crumbled remains of a haughty idol built in the image of an emperor and see the memory of the days before.
are graven images built in the name of christ?
i remember what i have never learned.
i seek that which was torn from our grasp.
but i am brave because of the one giving defence
who seeks not war, but peace.
who welcomes hatred, and turns the cheek.
if all words were lost, we still have the seed.
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i have long envied the writers of myth and dreamed of living in ancient times so my words would shape our most primal memories
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