
In our Stone Age we had just emerged.
Still learning
to bend and command
nature
Grunting
and gesticulating
Yet still we built
Tools from stone
Foundations that still stand
In our Bronze Age we went beneath the surface
Dug deep
For something we did not even know existed
And as we came up
Gasping for air
Our voices escaped
Our gods appeared.
And we found meaning
In things that we did not even know existed
And now we enter our Iron Age
Our fires stoked so hotly
That we burn
All of those impurities that questioned our strength
We are made of steel.
Made of steel.
The gift of the sixth year is iron.
Each year I write a poem to commemorate our wedding anniversary using the traditional anniversary gift as the inspiration.
Click the links below to read previous poems.
Year 1
Year 2
Year 3
Year 4
Year 5
The post The Gift of the Sixth Year appeared first on Beekman 1802.
Published on June 19, 2019 11:12