The Roads Remember Us

Stanza 1
The roads of Europe whisper names,
Of those who walked before,
Through cobbled streets and fading wars,
And open café doors.
Each stone has felt a thousand dreams,
Each bridge has learned to stand,
Between the weight of yesterday
And futures yet unplanned.
Stanza 2
In Paris rain, in Berlin light,
In Rome’s eternal air,
The clocks all move at different speeds,
Yet hope is everywhere.
A train departs at early dawn,
With strangers side by side,
Their stories packed in silent bags,
No need for flags or pride.
Stanza 3
We carry more than passports do,
We carry fragile days,
A mother’s voice, a lover’s note,
A map of former ways.
The language of a tired heart
Needs no translated line,
For grief and joy have learned to live
In every border sign.
Stanza 4
The mountains guard old promises,
The seas remember cries,
Of sailors chasing distant stars
In unfamiliar skies.
And still the children draw new worlds
On classroom window glass,
Where chalk becomes tomorrow’s road
And fear is taught to pass.
Stanza 5
We are not made of single roots,
But many woven tight,
Of wars survived and peace rebuilt
From broken bricks of night.
Our cities bloom from history,
From ashes into flame,
Each generation writes again
What freedom means by name.
Final Stanza
So walk these streets with open eyes,
And listen when they say:
“You are the bridge between two times,
The voice of yesterday.”
For every step you choose in light
Makes darkened corners small,
And Europe lives in simple acts—
In rising after fall.