Heirlooms Of Thought

Magna Carta, Hammurabi’s code,

Heirlooms of thought, freedom’s seed sowed,

Great ideas from distant generation

Ensued: liberty’s veneration.

What thoughts will our posterity acclaim?

To what end will they ultimately aim?

Where turn for intellectual fare?

Where will thinkers find the seed to dare?

Only rare inks born of liquid fire

Inscribe thoughts the future will desire,

  Trace wanderings where nimble minds have been,

Mark the present with indelible pen.

Wisdom, birthed by vigilance mature,  

May survive in mediums that endure:

Metal, paper, or heart of hardest stone.

Words with no home, soon forever gone.

History cacophonously sprawls behind,

The present races past, its memory mined,

The future reposes blindly in womb of time,

Quietly desperate to shun label of "mime."

So ideas we create must take flight,

Soar with eagles in medium of night,

Alight in the morning shiny with reflection,

Stand for a new generation’s inspection.

Should embraced they be, given full respect,

Or ignored, in disdainful retrospect?      

   Is within our control, our creative hand,

To determine if in fact, our heirlooms stand.