Of Relics

There’s a beauty in old things:
in ancient stone,
cracked and crumbling, fissured and fractured, stained by water and human hand;
or the patina on old bronze,
turquoise-black on an antique surface,
shiny no more, but dull, even in sunlight;
or splintered wood
warped and weathered and worn
ravaged by rain and wind and creeping ivy;
Aged structures and forgotten accessories,
neglected and discarded,
but holding secrets and telling stories
if only we dare to look