History is not
simply
the dates
and battles
buildings
and famous names
associated
merely with an
idea
or occurance.

History is not
years
lumped into
eras -
not general greatness
or the greatness
of generals.

It is
the wool
lovingly spun
by a mother’s hand
and stained
by a full day’s
honest labor.
It is the
pealing
of laughter
and church bells
in an untouched
meadow
of flowers
wild in every sense.

It is
stolen moments
in a hayloft
or on the bank of a river.
It is the heat
of the sun
beating down
on the shoulders
of a man
doing everything he can
to make it.

History
is in all
the moments
of lives
of people -
simply
people.

The world may change
but humanity is
constant.