MONOLITHS

Giant, carved, walking stones 
     with their backs to the ocean,

Their large eyes filled 
     with white coral and black obsidian,

Standing, mute and still, 
     in the light of the moon or the sun,

Their sculptors’ remnant bones 
     lying along lava cave floors.

Vessels holding sacred spirits 
     toppled after centuries

Raised again with silent, aged faces

Born out of porous, fleeting volcanic tuff,

Weathered and disintegrating, 
     obscure and beguiling.

Ancestral vigilance walks over 
     each new generation,

Diligently follows each era’s stepping stones,

Rolls up narrow carpets that lead from

Ancient memories to prophecies

Set upon the quiet lips of sepia images

Framed and smiling

For they know what we cannot know. 

© cmheuer, 2020