Whispers moonlight breezes,
Mysting drifts and lunar freezes,
Evenings spilled through crackling branches,
Fleeting forms in shadow dances,
Earthen tendrils, creeping, pulling
Undercurrents, rising, swelling,
Rolling tremors, booming thunder,
Mountains quaking, torn asunder,
Souls and shapes of times antique:
Hear you now the words they speak?


© 2009 Jubal Faircloth