A Riddle

riddle

I speak and yet I have no voice; earthly secrets I impart.
To hear me – yours alone, the choice; doors together, stay my heart.
My arch, the root of life and strength, or wind will stir and steal my leaves.
I’ve inspired men to march and sway; yet man forgets what I have seen.
I know time, and time knows me;
but on my own, I know nothing.

What am I?

 

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About John Chronikal

John Chronikal is a blogger, storyteller, poet, artist, composer, and songwriter. He loves to drink bourbon and write things that make his poor grandmother cringe. He is a gigantic man –– his bear hugs can crush bones –– but he is a gentle giant. Give him bourbon and chocolate and he will be your bestest friend forever. View all posts by John Chronikal

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