Image from WikiCommons, taken by Agency for Inspection and Restoration of Monuments of Moldove and used under the Creative Commons Agreement
Your monuments, what do they mean?
Build your stone high and shout your deity.
Hope that the stone outlasts the age
Hold tight to written, lawful piety
And when the old roots wrack your faith
When the cold moon bites and rags your mind
How do you hold on to the bitter dregs?
How do you slip into your role assigned?
Old shadows creep and stretch before your feet
Old lanes and lines cross across your path
You’re happy to bask in summer’s generous warmth
Are you willing to take the lash of winter’s wrath?
Look at the stone path, that’s where you tread,
Turning away to turfed green paths that roam.
Is it because your faith outlasts the stone?
Or do you listen when your soul hears home?