Arches of Memory

Beneath the arches of red and white,
Where light filters like ancient breath,
Whispers stir in columns’ flight —
Silent songs of life and death.

Stone remembers every prayer,
Every footstep, every tear;
Visigoth, caliph, king — they share
The shadows of this hallowed sphere.

Marble echoes golden days,
Córdoba’s streets, bright with flame,
Scholars’ words and poets’ praise,
Empires rising in its name.

Arches curve like ribs of time,
Holding centuries in grace,
Faiths entwined in quiet rhyme,
Stories etched in sacred space.

A mihrab glows with gilded light,
A nave soars with Christian stone,
Two faiths, two empires, in their fight,
Left beauty neither one could own.

Orange blossoms scent the air,
Minaret and bell compete;
What endures is what they share:
The wonder where their echoes meet.

So let us walk these columns long,
Let our hearts in arches sway;
For memory’s arch is wide and strong,
And holds the past we can’t repay.


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