Freemason - By Anna McCarthy Hoffman


I hunger for stone
For modelled, sand cast brick
Fossilised marble and quarried rock
Carved lintels, doorways, window frames
Chiseled copings, stacked veneers
In precise patterns of arrangement
The work of the master mason
His rough hewn hands
Calloused fingers applying
Time tested ideas, ancient methods
Advancing his prospects
Accumulating knowledge
With respect for tradition
And a mind for innovation
In time, the laborer
Becomes the architect
Maker of human landmarks
Intellectual towers of achievement
Fit together, joined
Mortared in immortality
They didn’t let women
Inside the order of the compass
The Grand lodge, the fraternity
Guest houses with great fireplaces
Sacred meeting sites for the
Technically educated
Classically trained
You had to be free
A person of good standing
Most of all, a man
Many a proud and honorable fellow
Planned empires, birthed revolutions
Telling tales of knights and secret orders
Building Solomon’s temple
Under the banner of brotherly love
It took hundreds of years
Until I would become a freemason
A master of my trade
To have learned and earner respect
Through dedication to craft
To build my own temples
Make my mark at universities
Pursuing the good of mankind
By means of walls, shelters and roads
Planned cities, renovated waterfronts, public squares
I always wanted to be part of
The sacred meeting
To know the symbolism of the eagle
The cross, the star
The delicate pointed legs
Graceful curves of the compass
The right angle
The precise measurements of the rigid squire
In my own way
I have righted an ancient wrong
Taken my own oath
Stood under the gaze of the all-seeing eye
And been found on the level.

- Written by: Anna McCarthy Hoffman

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