"Perhaps"
Perhaps there are lessons to be learned here—
not from backyard burgers spitting grease
over flame-kissed charcoal,
or kids shouting cannonballs into clear, cool water.
You won’t find this truth draped on porches,
or paraded in hollow reverie,
not in the crack of a bat,
or the salt of nachos and the sting of watered-down soda.
Perhaps the real tests of life lie quietly,
somberly hidden among the blades of grass,
beneath the warmth of sun and sky,
above a thousand white-marble souls laid in stillness.
You’ll find the best teachings are brought by
the endless rows of crosses and stars,
each name etched in silence—
a book of two pages, a life written in the space between.
Perhaps the best lessons rise from a cemetery,
from men you never knew,
their sacrifice seeping into the ground,
carrying the quiet promises of words left unspoken.
You’ll find there are lessons to be found here,
the dreams of freedom and courage
forged in the crucible of conflict,
with little regard for the toll of service.
Perhaps the best teaching comes from here
As soft flowers whisper the memory
of those who labored before,
reminding the world of the cost — and gift — of life.