Here is what people achieve when they gather.

Each lay one brick and see what we build.

Are some things worth raising a fist for?

Worth taking a risk for?

There are words here to guide you,

Wound into glass and stone.

There are deities and monuments,

Tridents and globes and thrones.

Bodies circle the square,

See them laze here or wander,

When sunlight punctures patterns

Of water where children’s 

Feet wander amidst showered poetry.

A triad of women watch over you here.

See where they stand,

Shrouded, planet in hand,

Sceptred, bare-breasted, bearing trident and boat.

What would you find if you bare yours?

What lies beneath skin and falsehood and clothes?

An ending is never an ending, not really.

Raise yourself up on long-dead shoulders,

Or tilt your own, become a foothold,

Climb steps long-since hewn.

Leave your mark.