Higher and higher it rises
'Til its very pinnacle
Touches the sky.

And with each motion
Of its ascent
It grows stronger.

Its radiant beauty
Shimmers and glistens,
A star in the blue heavens--
An unearthly jewel
Spreading its hope
For those who would seek it.

But all cannot behold it--
Some will not,
Others would destroy it.

In their ruinous ignorance
They hack and batter,
Strain and toil.
Still, it stands.

They cannot believe.
They decry its existence,
They laugh,
They snicker,
As if the very weight
Of their scorn
Can shatter it.

They see it waver,
They feel it shudder--
Again they laugh.

They smash at its walls,
But it holds.

They tire and go
Only to return
To attack once more.

It does not strike back,
Nor, does it take revenge.
Its existence is its strength.

All the scars of strife but serve to
Augment its lustre.
Each slash,
A battle won.

And though at times it weakens
From sheer force of evil,
It recovers anew,
And shines forth
In greater glory.

1997 by Pasqual S. Schievella