The Great Stones

Of the Temples
only great stones stand.
The Mysteries had left
so long ago
as to forget
when hope had wiggled out.
Yet the earth still turns,
and all seems just the same.
The center never holding,
begins to move again,
as it has always been.

The Dreams recalled,
so vaguely understood,
of a birth to come.
Perhaps already done,
as the millstones grind away.

It begins again,
to be felt in those old stones.
Remembered in their grain.
It comes.

Somewhere,
new wine skins are sewn.
It has begun and grows.
Understood by hardy few.
But Who ?
Who seek this ancient
stony view ?

Vincent J. Filomena

The author retains all rights to his work and requests that poems quoted include the name of the author.

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