In the absence of formwork,a beauty rises, unbidden.Gravel, sand, clay,a trinity of dust and stone.Rammed down, layer by layer,earth surrendering to force.Shaped not by handsbut by the weight of the world itself. A rugged edge, a broken tooth,A fissure filled with shadow.A murmur of ochreA vein of rustAn ember of gold.The wall sings in silence,stoic, unrepentant. It stands unpainted, unvarnished,bare and dare; as it is.The…