And I love on...

a tower crumbles
a very needed collapse
bringing more benefits than detriments
but traumatic and earth-shattering still

when tragedies happen to real-life buildings,
mourners gather at the scene,
sometimes for years, remembering together
united in their grief.

when our tower crumbled,
we inhaled relief with the dust.
pain and beauty and movement and change
(and it was overdue for a demolition)

the awesome and complete destruction was a series of choices
but just because that tower needed to crumble long ago
does not mean I can't revisit and shed a tear
at the site of the ruins.

for a while, all I could do was weep as I faced the ruins.
there will be no conspiracy theorists analyzing this wreckage,
there may be other visitors searching for answers,
but I usually come to these ruins alone.

I brought a friend last night. we kicked a few stones around,
laughed about some of the boulders that were once building blocks
and how they looked so much better on the ground,
than as a part of a hazardous tower that if left alone would have fallen yet again.

no tower will be like that one.
it was incredible, precarious, beautiful,
for a while, we thought it would always dominate the landscape,
with its unique spires and creative construction and hidden rooms.

so many times I have visited this place in my mind,
remembering it as it was when it was a tower,
holding a place in my memory that was no longer accurate to time and space
I was holding empty space up on a pedestal

now my tears blur the ground beneath me, but I am seeing clearly
I have picked up so many pieces, but the ground is still uneven with debris.
I could spend the rest of my life excavating this site
but the pieces don't all belong to me.

it will always be there in the landscape of the way I relate
it will always be cast in my memory,
and I deepen my acceptance.
it will always be sacred space.