Hunter’s Tale

 

A timeless voice impassioned still, whispers softly

While aimless hands curling futilely, grasp at air

And quiet eyes seeing all, find nothing there

 

Waters gliding ever onward, hesitate and listen as

Nature’s breath, tightly held, plays a sad old song

An endless wistful loop, on and on and on

 

Around the turn horizon’s edge, never mind the why

Plunges gaily dying gladly, in a tranquil place

Of silent space, a fetid cloak and hidden face

 

Wolves encircling with snarling smile, sooth the prey

No panic there, no fearful rolling eyes

Will halt the chorus of the wise

 

Yet over all and under none, there is but one

Who knows the way, both in and out

Over sea and thunder clouds

 

Back to the sage and ageless, timeless voice

Piercing skies, and lies, and thoughts

Of choices sold but never bought

 

copyright r.b.franklin 28/12/05

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s