Gossipwall

If walls could talk, what person would hear

the moaning mirth of battlement brick, the gossiping galleries of virolian villagescapes, the tilting towers of statuesque steel, the eternal echoes of chasm crags…

If your ears tingled, would you then draw near?

~

First thought I “this seems unreal”,

yet my wonder drew me nearer still, and as I tuned my ear to your crumbling ruins, the gusting of these mountaintop gales drew silent with reverence, and you spoke with the utmost authority when you said:

“Traveller, your tribe will heal”

~

This is what she told me then,

my wisest and most ancient friend.

She spoke without mouth or pen,

Yet gave me hope for kindest end.

Now every time I pass berm or build,

I call to heart that nocturne, so thrilled.

-spake Knight of Velvet Veil Vizier’s Guild.

~

More than this, the wall did see,

and sang about at length, but these topics I prefer not to repeat, for they relate to aeons of annihilation, brotherly battlefields, and the phantom horrors that pool in the collective shadow of humana, when after all…

Why repeat our history?

~

“oh Gossipwall, while still you live, speak

how much longer must mankind be ill?

fear of extinction makes my knees weak.”

her towers shook as she said the following:

“blessed be your ancient instincts, little one, gifted from realms that have withstood trials your ascending monkey mind cannot currently comprehend without collapsing like a starless galaxy.

But these instincts of yours, dearest and most beloved creature, also blind thee to the truth, the medicine your people so desperately crave. For in every fear, there is a dream waiting to be exposed and shared with this vast realm.

Tell me with truest heart, my silly little friend, what dreams you have that may defeat this fear, if not the dreams of utopia that you hold so dear?”

~

This sojourning soul urn was stunned to hear stone speak my hidden desires so clear, yet as soon as the whispers escaped her dimpled surface, I recognized the Gossipwall’s truths as ripples of an ancient destiny of mine, the way old lovers will always recognize each other, or the way a butterfly perhaps never forgets her cocoon.

At once I tore into a frenzy, scribbling furiously and in full awareness of the impending deadline that callously awaits our beleaguered tribe of starstruck savages. And truly, I say to you here and now, that in our tenacity to reach for the stars, we impressed many an astral acquaintance. Yet what good is served by grasping for heaven if we have nowhere to bring it home to?

~

My dearest wall, prophet on the mount,

those extant eras please recount,

tell me now, and please be true,

what chance have we, from your highest view?

Is there anything we can do?

~

My friend the Gossipwall chuckled so loud that her foundations shook, and I feared she might tear herself apart. When her laughter had subsided, she spit out a final chuckle and said:

“of course, there is so very much to review.

There are after all, many minutes in a single day, and many monkeys with nothing to do.”