The grains of sand fall quickly through
A past that time forgets
Who we were, where we’ve been and
Where we shall go hence.
While much is learned, so much is lost
Though wisdom ever speaks
She sings her song to right the wrongs
Her children there to teach.
Why do the groves stand empty?
Where lay the rowan staff?
Who’s song will pierce the darkness?
Whose words will paint the past?
To master, ovate, and those between
To poet, musician and bard
Let not the pen rest out of hand
Nor hold back the living word.
The light of inspiration shines
On those called to receive it
Let’s raise our quill, sing our song
And dare now to believe it.
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Comments about this poem (Awen's Call by Amen Raevnsong )
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