Pillars to Dust
By: Bro. Justin Miller
I once stood before a mausoleum
A tomb of stone for a traveling man
Doric columns like the colosseum
Assembled with care by a Master's hand
I thought how great a man he must have been
To warrant such work as splendid as that
Lasting impression left upon his kin
For them to commission such grand format
Each year that passed I paid visit again
Acanthus growing alongside the wall
Seasons gone, it wasn't long until when
The stones became loose and began to fall
The pillars once proud cracked under the strain
Pediment buckled and crashed to the ground
Foundation fractured by wind and by rain
Nature reclaimed it, now only a mound
That man inspired such eminent work
Such sorrow to witness such a shrine wilt
His memory fading into the murk
Time's token now lost with what he had built
No mourners came so long after he passed
It did not seem right to let it just be
I gathered the fragments until at last
Not a shard was left for any to see
I ground them down fine, mixed in with soft earth
And baptized it all within a great mould
From water and dust, there came his rebirth
Remembrance renewed and spirit consoled
Pouring mortar into each cast with care
Gently I placed them out into the sun
To set in new form in the warm spring air
'Til they hardened again and then were done
Ten thousand small stones all perfectly square
Consecrated in prayer, I said “Amen”
Each day I took one and left it somewhere
So that his memory traveled again
***
