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Doors of Time

By John I. Blair

Iíve been knocking
On the doors of time,
Taking rubbings
Off pitted rune stones
In grass grown graveyards,

Climbing shyly
Up my family tree
And nodding as I go
To those who cling there,
Hoping they might nod to me,

Sitting up by moonlight
Tracing genealogies,
Endless lists of names,
Dates, places, and events,
Battles, births, and burials,

Asking why I do it,
Wondering how anyone
Could not, since this
Is all about the course
Of how we came to be.

©2012 John I. Blair

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