History

Knowledge
waxes and wanes
throughout
centuries
of love,
despair
We have no inkling
of what we've lost
in pages unwritten,
books burned,
secrets shared
What language
has died,
invention
forgotten
in mists of time
and space
Uttered words
now unuttered
graced halls
in whispers
between lovers
mothers
kings
priests -
their syllables long forgotten
Has history lost them,
or do they lie recycled
in fits of genius,
modernity
claiming
all her own
Perhaps we
can never really
know.

©Eleanor Clark
23 November, 2012