Strolling through these desolate yards, I hear it Resounds and echoes of the past, retelling the story Listen with dignified attention and you can hear it The pain and joy of past times radiating from these homes Walking these shadows, hiding from scanning eyes I catch glimpses into the past, forever etched into the earth Centuries from now, these will be the ruins The treasures discovered by a future paleontologist Picking and prodding; studying and testing Searching for reason in what we feel is sensible We are already artifacts; ancient in the books Our actions are the pens of the history books Deciphering a generation’s image with decisions A picture is worth a thousand words, but… A paragraph is worth is million seconds Cutting and shaping a story for briefness A rapid succession of descriptions of decisions Step carefully, someone is watching you and recording Capturing the moment, you are writing the books of history Writing the books of the past with the future Speak with dignity, because your sounds to will resound Your actions will echo, to someone someday As they stroll the fields of the future, attentively listening