What History Teaches [Requestor is anonymous]
An ancient temple stands on a hill. Long since abandoned, it towers amidst the wreckage of its ancient secrets.
If these pillars could speak, they would tell tales of yore. Stories of those passed into the Ether so long ago that the Humans alive today cannot even fathom the span of time.
And the actors and actresses who walked this stage those long years ago, would speak through the stone, if only they could. But they have long since moved on, and their voices are cold and still now. The tomb of their culture stands mute and silent, silhouetted against a dying sky.
The occassional tourist meanders quietly through the fallen stones, mere tokens of the former glory of this place.
One might look at it and see history lost. Or perhaps see a testament to the destructive nature of mankind. One might look upon this place and despair.
But there is an alternative, dear one. There is another choice.
When you look at this grand, cathedral-like ruin, can you not see the memories, the ghosts of days passed? Can you dance in the ruins, reverent yet joyful? Can you look upon it and see the wonder, the grandeur of the ones whose hands raised these momumental stones?
Can you look at life through the lens of joy, instead of the lens of loss? Rather than see the ruins as they stand today, can you open your mind to encompass the beauty which once was? Can you gave in awe and rapture at the wonders that man could create long before the arrival of modern technology?
Can you appreciate without judgement?
Can you see the golden history, the golden desire of mankind for beauty? Can you see the golden joy beneath the dross?
Can you, my Love?
If these pillars could speak, they would tell tales of yore. Stories of those passed into the Ether so long ago that the Humans alive today cannot even fathom the span of time.
And the actors and actresses who walked this stage those long years ago, would speak through the stone, if only they could. But they have long since moved on, and their voices are cold and still now. The tomb of their culture stands mute and silent, silhouetted against a dying sky.
The occassional tourist meanders quietly through the fallen stones, mere tokens of the former glory of this place.
One might look at it and see history lost. Or perhaps see a testament to the destructive nature of mankind. One might look upon this place and despair.
But there is an alternative, dear one. There is another choice.
When you look at this grand, cathedral-like ruin, can you not see the memories, the ghosts of days passed? Can you dance in the ruins, reverent yet joyful? Can you look upon it and see the wonder, the grandeur of the ones whose hands raised these momumental stones?
Can you look at life through the lens of joy, instead of the lens of loss? Rather than see the ruins as they stand today, can you open your mind to encompass the beauty which once was? Can you gave in awe and rapture at the wonders that man could create long before the arrival of modern technology?
Can you appreciate without judgement?
Can you see the golden history, the golden desire of mankind for beauty? Can you see the golden joy beneath the dross?
Can you, my Love?
posted by Nimmy | 9:43 AM
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