IN THE VOICES OF STONES
From rocks, boulders, pebbles, stones & scree,
I hear the hard skinned voices calling out to me,
“Beware my friend for surely the time will come,”
Their singing chorused, by moon, stars & mighty sun.
From the wailing of winds & threatening harsh breeze,
From throbbing hearts of beasts dying on their knees,
From the weeping of iced mists & the teardrops of rain,
From the newly hewn souls of old trees crying in pain.
I hear in the pleading of plants & the sad ebbing of tides,
I hear it in the cracking of lakes & as melting ice slow slides,
I hear voices in the bleeding of earth & erosion´s sad plea,
As the plastic world chokes oceans, forests, deserts & seas.
I hear the old warning voices that are unheard by all men,
Echoing over Stone Mountains, in forests, cove, hill & glen,
I hear the pounding blood of the old ancestor’s bones,
All is heard in the voices of boulders, pebbles & stones.
© SUE LOBO
Response to our Inspiration Call on January 15, 2018
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Categories: Featured Writer's