The Wall

Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash

Mice live in a wall

between two fields, believing 

in the shadows of a stone

that will not move.

Some hands must have built

everything we see, all 

in which we dwell.

But that’s not forever.

Some day robots

will build in space

engaged at the altar

of progress.

Where will the mice be then?

What we endure 

in the name of existence

is only stones rolling 

to obscure the sun.

When we are done, 

we leap flying 

to the space-built sky.

Above us robots wait, 

hands cradled

ready to hold

our champions.