Ruins often remind us of "battles long ago" (echoing words from Wordsworth's poem, "The Solitary Reaper"). But when we spot a "Li'l bit of sky" as we look up the walls of some historic ruins, what feelings surge within? Are we reminded of death and destruction, or Love and a Common Heritage? "What can be" is not "what was". Yet, it is our mind that leads us to dark thoughts. If there is love for a people, and nations whose pasts are linked to ours, can't we see Hope, better thoughts than death and torture? Would it not leave us feeling better, as if giving the Past a "new chance"? A look at such thoughts and history, in poems.
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