Mortaring Cracks In Boulder

Discussion in 'Poetry and Words of Wisdom' started by Blake Bowden, Sep 13, 2009.

  1. Blake Bowden

    Blake Bowden Administrator Staff Member

    The young apprentice looked on and long,
    At the stones with chips and cracks between.
    The small lodge weathered years and storms.
    Now grasped tight in aging hands, the charter.

    The Past Master sighed and breathed the air,
    The dry smell of dust; the scent of loneliness.
    The lodge building, still proud and strong,
    Once held a laughing, thriving throng.

    These days moved away and gone,
    The town struggled-so too, the lodge.
    Few returned to accept the task,
    This day looked bleak at last.

    Frown on face the Grand Master held,
    His hand forth, to accept the charter.
    The Master from days before,
    Clenched his teeth and said, "No more!"

    "We will rebuild our lodge, my Brother,"
    He continued in tones right true,
    "To that we will strive, I promise you.
    Let us keep for the nonce this paper."

    He turned to the few who stood,
    A handful yes, but a handful good.
    "What say you brethren?
    The task is hard and daunting."

    The apprentice nodded and wiped his brow.
    "We stand together, or not at all!"
    The others nodded in silent refrain,
    Where brotherhood held its domain.

    The Grand Master smiled a bit, unsure,
    "Keep your charter. Build once more,
    A Temple of brothers and Masons.
    A place for friendship and joy to rein."

    Shaking hands, the brothers parted.
    The members turned to their lodge.
    They set to task to rebuild,
    The lodge of brothers and their hall.

    Many years have gone since that day,
    When their charter nearly went away.
    The stones are mortared and repaired,
    The roof is new and lawn is green.

    Much work has gone, into the structure.
    Much more to do, yet it remains.
    A shining testament of the brothers,
    Who set to build temple once again.

    By: Kevin Noel Olson

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