history is a long winding road,
it stretches far beyond,
for what the eye can see,
every stone age wall a treasure,
every rock formation gold,
every lost civilization a mystery,
on this earth that continues to get old,
every town has a date of birth,
maybe written in the domesday book,
lands have been ravaged by invaders,
and delicate treasures stolen and took,
living in the squalor of an inner city,
between 1960s brutalist creations,
it is hard to see the beauty,
in other far away civilizations,
we have to at least read to know,
before we travel far from home,
we don’t have to visit the pyramids,
look for a castle closer to home,
a strange mound could be a hill,
or even it could be foundations of an old fort,
even modern motorways,
have some history of some sort,
blessed with living in italy,
I see different types of history,
crossing over the Appian way,
where roman soldiers marched every day,
I see church towers almost abandoned,
I see the scars of world war 2,
I see the disasters of the modern age,
but what does history mean to you?
some history is sad news to tell,
some history is defined by a natural disaster,
some history is a man‐made hell,
pushed into recession by a mad dictator,
nature continues to carve her name in history,
through earthquakes, volcanoes, and unseasonal weather,
poor souls who have lost their lives,
whilst the governments could have protected them better,
history mainly is about gains in humanity,
but sometimes can be a turning back,
there is nothing worse than a huge tidal wave,
to cast your population back fifty years,
some history now seems impossible,
the pyramids and the hanging gardens of Babylon,
we are still searching for Atlantis and Noah’s ark,
when all traces to the goal are long gone,
so no matter who you are,
and even if you live on the moon,
embrace what history has left for us,
taste it slowly with your inquisitive spoon.