Prayer and Praise
I look into these woods, and wonder where it once went. It must have led to a town or a village, a place long gone nowadays. There are likely old foundations made of piled stone in the middle of the deep woods, mortar made of lime and sand still holding the outlines of what once stood out in the back of there...
Homes and shops. Places people once lived, before it all came apart for one reason or another - but the traces can still be seen where once families stood together and children excitedly played, running throughout these same trees...
Dogs barking, tails wagging, postmen riding up on a horse, and asking where folk lived so that their mail from far away could be given to them....
In old wood stands, the dreams and the hopes of those who once stood there can still be seen. You can tell where fields once were - because the trees in squared places are only saplings now - barely seventy or so years old.
Rusting hulks of old motor cars can be found in the middle of such woods - that once carried lucky families to church on sunday.
While others walked, but still came.
Not much left of village markets, there was never much there. Or old mills - the remnants of a pair of large rounded stones might be found.
In old woods, the memories of people sleep, but they are the same as our own today.
In a hundred, or a THOUSAND years, I wonder if anything of my own will be found? And what might be thought of it...
"Oh look, he was evidently an artisan of some kind. He had a computer..."
(He says, acidly)
All these and more we leave behind - WILL be misinterpreted, not completely understood.
If I could leave only one thought behind, only one memento of what I thought, of who I was and what I was like - it would be:
"I CARED"
~Wolf
"'A knight is sworn to valour
His heart knows only virtue
His blade defends the helpless
His might upholds the weak
His word speaks only truth
His wrath undoes the wicked"
Last edited by Greywolf; Jan 11, 2007 at 11:35 PM.



