The Patient Stones

And there, in the clearing by the temple at Volubilis, we saw her weeping. She stood in the full sun, her black veil covering her head and her hands covering her face. Rhythmic sobs, a broken heart, a private loss.

The traveller finds, in ancient stones, markers of the lives before: victories and defeats, commerce and trade, love and family, industry and crops, watercourses and streets, courts and governments, prisons and punishment. The defences, granaries and amphorae provide for times to come, but the future is never certain – and all grand visions become covered by the sand or baked lifeless in the sun.

Only memories remain. Tears are not for ancient glories nor for empires overthrown. Tears are for our time, and once more these dry stones are dampened, this time by the woman in black. The living mourn those gone in their lifetime; and the stones wait yet, patiently, for those still to come.

Volubilis, Morocco, September 2016.

Photo by Geoff Beggs