Storage of Past

Pots, jars, cups
Any kind of miracle stored
Filling in each floor of shelf
Are those for anyone?

Dust, sand, ash
Forms that mysteries take
Coloring all over the room
Are answers of past there, too?

This brings back that chamber
A room full of grails
Only true mind shows the answer
Among eternal prisons of hidden wisdoms

Nothing is blurred or fading
There are only true shadows
Old antiques seem stiff
What stories are behind them?

Few voices can still be heard
Perhaps, people take histories
Into humble urns
Perhaps, this is history room
But, graves are different
Nothing left here except scents
Either silence or mystery
Even time is stopped
Only purpose seems to be the only light
Or merely questions

Storage of Past

Here is real yet unreachable chamber
Where only light and scent
Enter and return
Where question and purpose
Can open and close the urns.