In the depths of time’s eternal march,
Wisdom’s shadow darkens the heart,
There lies a question, bold and new,
Does the human race believe its past to be true?
Through ages past, we’ve danced this dance,
A tapestry of triumph and chance,
Yet still, it seems, we stumble on,
Unravelling threads, repeating what’s gone.
Oh, mortals, bound by fleeting breath,
Do you not see, in life and death,
The lessons etched upon the earth,
Whispering truths of priceless worth?
On ancient scrolls, our past, to find,
History weaving stories of ancient times.
Of battles fought with rage,
Is this not the poet’s stage?
Yet do we learn, or ignore,
Ancient scholars who left the door ajar.
Are we players, adrift in time,
Blind to the patterns, deaf to the rhyme?
When empires rise, and then they fall,
Do we heed the warning call?
Or are we doomed to replay the scenes,
Where the echoes of folly linger, it seems.
Cities have crumbled, civilizations crushed,
Decayed beneath the weight of the human touch,
But still, we march, oblivious and blind,
Longing for the wisdom we struggle to find.
Oh, poets, scholars, seekers of the past,
Will we ever break free from ignorance’s grasp?
Can we rise above our fallen cries,
Embrace the light that history implies.
Perhaps the answer lies deep within,
The essence of change that dwells within,
In our hearts is where it starts,
To learn from history’s poignant arts.
So let us open our minds anew,
Embrace the lessons, both old and true,
And as we journey through time’s embrace,
May we break this cycle and find solace and grace.
Steve Halstead.
The Yorkshire Poet & Friends 