In Jiayuguan, I saw the remains of the wall.
The Great Wall of China,
The end of the wall,
Where civilization met a lack of it.
The wall was built over time,
For decades,
Perhaps centuries,
It would shine.
The shine would fade,
Like the rims on an Escalade.
Time remains undefeated in that way.
As much as we save,
Very little will survive,
Like light that fades,
From the beginning to the end of a day.
The remains of the end of the wall,
A thin line that reaches across the horizon.
The remains of The First Beacon,
A decaying rock.
The preserved Hanging Great Wall,
The best remaining artifact,
Which lies still completely intact.
In our lives and in our future,
It is exactly like the wall.
We hope to tower and live for eternity.
Yet like the wall,
What remains will be fragmented,
Even those fragments in time,
Will be less than the thin wall’s line.