(Photo Title: As light as Air)
TO WAKE FROM DEAD DREAMS
from this short sighted,
self serving day dream that stunts humanity
Sleep not while greedy ones take the coal,
blacken the soil, oiling the wheels
with whiskey blood and tears.
On the short grass the sheep still graze
The larger game have left this place
(even the coyote bides his time ---
always measuring his distance from the gun)
Yet---there are some who measure distance
from the inside. They read between the lines
of layers left behind for it exists in the center
their strength of awareness--the guardians of ancient ways
They know this world spins from energy of the sun
and by its own momentum turns----
swallowing the past.
Through layers of time both dead and alive
-- they walk-- the ancient canyon:
---down an old worn path where steep walls keep
old secrets in the still and deep
A whisper on the wind -Calls
---to rest beneath the canyon tall
and gaze upon the ancient tones
that mornings mystery ---brings with light.
Its chiseled wisdom worn.
Yes in the wind they listen these ones with vision
for the ghost of a moment that----- calls out !
Unfold the mystery that surrounds and find--
the thread--that runs through everything
and everyone and from everywhere
a voice that speaks to all the children
whom hope holds fast .To let go is to understand
and roll the rock from off the path
(COPYRIGHT ©2012 W. T. Davies)