A song is lifted.
The windy drama has now passed on,
but sometimes it blows me back
against fences of ancient landscapes
where signposts shatter my footsteps.
The room was dark but now it's light.
Darkness lingers amidst
the harbingers of doom.
Brightness comes from those
who see the light at tunnel's end.
Proverbs praise her in the gates.
Her husband is known in the gates,
when he sits among the elders 31:23,31;
and free in the drenched alcove
the spotter waits and bides his time.
A harpy streaks across the sky
borne by fierce gale winds.
Soon it will happen.
A door slams back and forth
rattling its hinges.
There's turmoil in the sky,
yet he waits silent as the moon
burning brightly high above,
while somewhere in the shadows
water drips and echos loudly.
Paving stones old as the mountains
hold their breath in deep suspense.
What will surely come
is only known as the unknown,
as it has always been,
but for those in the now
it seems urgently different.
Dreamers will dream a repeating theme
how the day got away
after the fall a resounding call
breaks out from the ground
upon a new born day.
With clatter of bones
the demons arose to challenge all those
who pass their way.
angels' song reverberates
shattering their storm.
Ron S. began this poem, picking up a line from Eth's daily posting,
and adding a response. Eth later added a new first line. The poem
then meandered an unpredictable course, to a succinctly fitting end,
provided by Tim O. "SONG" was titled by Ethel, and finalized on
January 14, 2008.
Writers: Ron S., Ethel, Don A., Ross, Angelo, Terry G., Tim O.