ancient woods

I am an old soul…
possibly by millions of years…
I come from an ancient world,
and carry with me ancient fears…

Fears that the waterfalls
shall soon be dried of their springs,
and that forest fires shall one day
burn the homes of wild beasts…

Hear the quite ripple,
feel the hard petrified wood,
if you want to last, as these have,
you must change as these would….

 

Oh, Ancient People

Oh hazy mountains

silhouette in the sky

that keep us surrounded

and hidden from sight

–

jagged blue zigzag

contrast a sunset of gold

God’s fingers cradle softly

as the night unfolds

—

—birds flutter and perch

dogs watch and rest

as the Mayans work

the one remnant left—

—

Oh, ancient people

so high and so mighty

with temples so regal

so much devout piety

—

women with colorful blouses

tresses black and long

from society you’ve been ousted

but I still hear the beat to your song

—

A dormant power

though you surrender this night

like a sweet taste gone sour

this people’s dignity has been resigned

—

So softly it beats

yet it still is alive

WAIT! the warriors are returning

to take for themselves their wives

—

how can they quietly surrender?

the last precious jewel that remains

this culture of splendor

descends as the day wanes

—

Oh fingers of God

reach past the mountains

touch these people and their cause

bring water to this fountain

—

with mine own eyes

I have seen the last

a glimpse from the future

at a people caught in the past

—

What splendor shines forth

from the setting sun

what radiant colors

shine from above!

—

with a weak surrender

the culture leaves

with an ever lasting impression,

the sun slowly sinks