Who rides the lonely trails, ear to ground
Listening for footfalls, coming down.
The animals sense a presence, yet unturned;
Over the mountain, past the berm.
Disturbed pebbles mar the pond's smooth face,
A faraway dust cloud closing space.
Silent trees listen as if holding breath;
Their ancient roots feel movement shift.
Something beckons something old,
From far days we thought were gone
And there is home; dear home, we knew
Still full with dreams, that can't come true.
This we know; and we know it, plain
But it’s the heart, goes back again.
only those who dare to listen.... and to live! another great poem!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is as if before the time of the big bang was ever a consideration, so vastly far reaching and truly reach's the heart... It is a fantastic journey from that magic of your wonderful mind.... Jim Troy