They Dance Circles In Descent.
Tribal rhythms pulsate within my soul,
by David Lacey
Echoes waver of life’s long since passed,
I sigh within the moment.
They dance circles in descent.
These unknown creatures
Mimicking angels in formation,
Cascade as water flows
Pure and clear in harmony.
The tears of the world are pooled,
As ambient flutes sound from the
Dark forests of nightshades mask.
Still the cascade continues,
Thousands upon thousands,
Tonnes upon tonnes of purity
In an ever ceaseless flow.
What elaborate beauty is this?
What a grace to have viewed
Glory such as this within the
Sanctuary of my soul.
Clear waters pass below,
Pastures green stretch unto
The distance as ancient trees,
Fountains of secret wisdoms
As they are, keep close eyes upon
Movements within the valley.
Thunder is heard upon the skylines,
The chainsaw roars,
Our most ancient wisdoms are lost.
The natives of the world sigh in unison
Holding on in the moment of descent,
Crying for the future, mourning Mother Nature,
Seeking a truth no soul could resent.