Friday, September 3, 2010

Poem for Poseidon

The Temple’s columns, so strong and mighty
Drift up over the sea
A hushed breeze calms the waves
As the setting sun lays to rest the same way
As any other hot athenian day

The tourists gather,
Waiting for hours to see the transformation
Of the sun
Red to yellow, yellow to gold
In a place that’s as beautiful as is old.

The glorious history that shakes the ground
Imagining the process to build such a world
The time spent on each and every block
The granite stone crushing the men
As we can barely imagine what it was like back then

Trapped in a world of history
Forever wondering what it was really like
The hot sun filled scorching day
A glimpse into forgotten time
Paying little more than a dime

Time to go, as the sun had set
The temple stands tall, columns as old as sand
They’ve seen history, lives, wars
More than I could ever know
And yet I can’t believe I have to go

This place captivates me to my core
And I think, I’ll come back one day
Then maybe ill know the history these walls hold
The stories the columns could tell
That indeed, would be impossible to sell.

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