Braille of Cobblestone

Keeper of darkness
of auras reaped from high seas
vast is your harvest
from earth rumblings beset by molten tears
to charred obsidian made hard
glass reflected primates once clamored upon
from paws a running
sniffed calloused drippings in peril
where burlap swathed footsteps
dodged blade and spear
as wash water dumped from high
added slippery footing for predators ever lustful
ever hungry
ever historic
 
Now the high noon of my life
I wonder among your melodies
amidst recent fabrications lining your path
you the wrinkled skin of ancient masons
serve sun-baked feasts
from the past of pasts
your micro-canyons of irrigated seed and drift
send spirits aloft from grasses high
reminding us that while calendars may crumble
your stone of old remains young
transcending the language of vowel and consonant
acknowledging the touch of phantom eye to eye
even whispered touches beneath a Nike sole
speaking the tongues of old
echoing the murmurs of felled travelers
the severed limbs of warriors
the rivers of passion red
polishing fossils within
 
Yet others would fake Nature's setting
even make ready counterfeit copies
to pacify the blind living without preference
such serpentine monsters of ignorance
whose Gucci laced feet now prance upon your offspring sold into bondage
interspersed among the fakery
having not a clue of the Carthaginians
or Mediterranean isles of oar navigated ports
 
For like Rodeo Drive's cobblestone plazas
where modern slavery prisons of today
masquerade as knockoffs once authentic for tomorrow
your history is reaching fade out
sans your hidden messages
your quiet cacophony of silence
made orchestral for those who can hear
those who dare see through the darkness
those who can be moved and touched by
the brail of cobblestone