I am the culture of every soul.
I was there at the birth of mans first dream.
Voices, plagues and language,
tears wet and dry
the passing of every century is not enough
still standing tall, proud
Pyramid by the Nile
secretive, strong and lost
in a maze of green jungle
somewhere in the land of Mexico
its message to my heart and soul.

Do you think we can escape the plight
of our creation?
Inside is the key to our salvation
unwise our lack of excavation.

Only the farmer knows the direction of season.
We have music, art and literature
enough to nurture culture
is not enough to sustain my heart.

How ungrateful
for the pages God left for us.
His voice in every word
His heart etched on every tree
and His promise in every child's eye.
Reminding me behind the fall of Jerusalem,
or the Inquisition,
even after the blood flow of Rwanda,
and the Giant's greed in the middle east,
there is still a beating heart
that cares.

Javier Zamorano

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pilgrimage-10/