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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