The ancient tools, too often simply museum pieces,
arcane, historic and yet still useful
for the man who chooses to use them.
About this poem.
This weekend, at the ripe old age of 67, I became a Master Mason in a Masonic Lodge in Chester, VT. Much of Masonry is about becoming better men, and their path echoes Christianity and its precepts. It got me thinking about many ancient religions, and how much good is in so many of them (Even though Christianity is my path, I recognize and respect good where ever I find it.).
So much ancient wisdom. And when we abandoned it, set it all up as mere history or museum pieces, we lose as a people, as a society, as a world. The old truths, so often, have such use, IF we would actually practice them.
(A sad sigh erupts.)
PS: The photograph was taken in a Washington, DC museum. They are both tools and Masonic Symbols.