Monday, June 24, 2013

Poetic archaeologist or archaeological poet?

Today I just want to post two poems that describe my morning and my afternoon here at the Western Galilee Archaeological Field School.

The Destructive Science
Digging through the fingers
Of history in soil
Toil
In a blazing sun
And people blazing
With the promise of education
At the cost of physical exhaustion

Take caution
Archaeology is not the science
For the faint-hearted

(Photo Credit to Eric Cline)

Mediterranean moments
Waves slope in
Like time
On the heavy beaches
Of Human understanding
Bringing particles of hydrogen
Brought
From depths beyond imagination
Nature's creation not a gift to us
But a privilege
Of soaked, smooth silk
Running a marathon over our shoulders
Browned bellies
Slithering in and out of
The caressing kiss
Of that softly slapping sea

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