In those days giants walked the Earth—
So says the Good Book.
We see only their fading footprints.
These days, most of us seem small,
Shrunken, and cold.
We wander our worried minds
Like survivors of a disaster,
Huddling, grateful,
Yet filled with guilt and shame.
We hoard all save our money.
Love, compassion—
These we guard most jealously.
Let’s go find us some giants!
Grab a shovel,
A lantern, the list of ancient sites—
They must be somewhere near,
Long-buried,
Awaiting the appointed hour.
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