What do they find with their shovels,
\nopening the earth,
\nfinding debris and artifacts,
\nsearching for remains,
\ndead people,
\ncultures
\nthat flew away like mist
\non some forgotten morning?
\nShouts of children,
\ndancing,
\npeople of firelight and oil,
\nplanting crops
\nin the dust that buried them.
\nPerhaps
\nwe are looking for ourselves,
\nOur wonder at the galaxies overhead,
\nthe darkness in the earth,
\ncold faces in the sea.<\/p>\n
Can we find ourselves?
\nHere,
\nstop digging,
\ntake my hands,
\nhere is the woman I love,
\nhere are the shoes of my children.
\nWe eat, talk, make love,
\ntell each other stories
\nas they did.
\nWe live among houses and streets,
\nleave notes to each other,
\nand you are looking in the dust,
\ndigging as if you do not know us,
\nnever heard us praying,
\nlooking for each other.<\/p>\n
Leave our loved ones alone who are sleeping.
\nCome to the table,
\nand we will tell you our secrets.
\nLet the ones harbored in death
\nbe at peace.
\nPerhaps in a distant time
\nsomeone will look for all of us.
\nLet them be unknown.
\nThere is only time enough now
\nfor you to stop digging,
\nand do as they’ve done, live.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
What do they find with their shovels, opening the earth, finding debris and artifacts, searching for remains, dead people, cultures that flew away like mist…<\/p>\n