Dry Rains Poem by Alven L. Robinson

Dry rains of lost time
no one knows your sound
no one hears your voice

The hall stands empty
its child born and gone
vanished with the keys

Lost into the ashes
of thought upon the wind
scattered past the reach

Of ember light - - hidden
in ravines of space
washed upon the cliffs

Of beauty's birth
nestled on the shores
beside the silent tides

Of form - - still,
waiting for the Founder,
the cauldron fire unseen

Until each echo
hears its own return.