The Tower

​​what if the stones laid
in the foundation of life
begin to crumble
under the strife?
 
the mortar dissolving
into dry sand
slipping away
through fingered hands.
 
what if the base rock
withered as fallen leaves
blown away
by slightest breeze?
 
would the tower fall
into oceans deep?
could all that is above
survive such a sweep?
 
impressive pedestals
crack and creak,
disrupting stability,
disturbing sleep.
 
where would feet fall,
if toes touch first?
how then to rebuild
on ground so cursed?
 
gravity pulls,
as water swirls,
to wash away
all that’s unfurled.
 
but to stand,
and remain,
one new stone
soon to be lain,
just one
at a time
through and despite
one’s pain.
 
but to not rebuild,
never feign,
that such option
be seen
as insane.
 
hv
6-12-17