Mysteries

 

Mysteries

 

I guess and strain

At the ancient mysteries,

Enigmatic puzzles and far magics

Explained too confidently

By persons as far removed

From those times as I.

Monuments explained in pictograph,

Translated by a modern view,

Unaided by the original subtleties,

Once easily accessed

And now lost to time.

What untold venerations remain unspoken?

What context misapprehended?

Are we to believe the clamor of

Conquering slavers,

Murderers claiming gold not theirs,

Colonizers and

Unbelievers.

What measure of truth

Remains to that sort?

How can we through their eyes,

Revere and resolve tall testaments,

They bloodied for their own ends?

What persists in misunderstood language?

Precise calculation exists side by side with

Monstrous characters worshipped in sacrifice.

This seems amiss.

What understanding is removed?

What key to the paradox remains hidden?

Monolith and obelisk mock our ignorance,

Fortifications and shrines keep their secrets,

Waiting for us to stumble on them

And wonder at their complexity,

And believe anything but that

Our ancestry had knowledge

We cannot pierce or perceive.

More is kept from us than we know,

And more is known,

Than we would be shown.

So, I guess and strain at ancient mysteries,

But I strain more

At the mysteries known,

And kept hidden.

The reminders are before us,

Guideposts as yet misread,

Yet they endure,

As will our quest for the truths

They will reveal.

 

Cliff Lake 12/14/2024

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2024

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