John Oldham Poet Rhyme

The Tribal Keep

The quiet jungle
The tribal keep
The river still
The river deep
A flash of day
The night is done
And we are moved
– And moving on

Like rolling stones
Who do not know
They have been thrown
We only knew
We rolled alone
And rolled until
We rolled no more
– And then were still

As quivers hold
The arrows bold
Until they feel
The tautened bow
We held, we held
Against our will
The primal spell
The bitter pill –

For what we stood for
For what we were
A startled leap
On a falling star
A midnight drive
In a polished car
To the curling river
Where we cried
In ancient tongues
Where we stirred
The ancient musings
Of the young, the young
Who rolled the stone
To the river deep
The rolling stone
The tribal keep

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Paige Hind April 29, 2026 at 11:11 PM very interesting, I like the flow of how this poem "rolls" John Oldham May 9, 2026 at 2:17 PM Glad you liked it, Paige - Cheers!