these blocks are broken, crumbled,
they will not be re-stacked, reset,
they won’t be home or citadel
No use to pore, again,
through all the plans,
no use to wonder
where they were wrong
or why they failed
to keep the city from going under
Let us arise and build —
not with these
but with the substance
we are made of —
bright vectors of intention,
strong cords of close connection
and the steady purpose
that knows us even when
we don’t know it, the one
that guides us ever to our own.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 1, 2017
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