From Ages Past
from ages past
near the sea
so close there is but
a seal whisker between my toes
and the grasping ripples
I ear the voices sing
they come bubbling up from deeps
farther than tomorrow
whispering in ancient tongues
from long drowned lips
blue green with algae.
the tears of their dying eyes
those who sailed
flying across restless water
are swept away and lost
among the alto drops
but songs remain forever
beaten out against rocky cliffs
shot from the blow holes of leviathons
sifted and clicked through the claws of crabs.
passage of time has no meaning
for they are locked into their age
as inextricably as shackled prisoners
yet the songs are here, now
each surrounds me with their lives.
Copyright © Patricia Cresswell | Year Posted 2017
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