Voices Of The Past Poem by Amber Glistener

The voices are echoing,
sad somber songs,
a dancing off the walls,
it wont be very long.

Times are getting rougher,
the sounds are not,
the things in this cavern,
are a mixture of pleasantries yet to be seen.

Battle cries are in the wind,
wanting to be heard,
the beating of war drums,
thrumming with the rhythm of the hearts.

A torrent of music a waiting for the time,
when all of creation will hear it,
flowing through the breeze,
like leaves in the autumn.

A way for our ancestors to speak to us,
from the past as a message,
in the animals and trees,
a new hope for our generation.

The times that we get to know one another,
are like a tide pool,
filled with life,
full to bursting with energy.

The life here is great,
the wonders are many,
the questions are plentiful,
and the hopes are high.

A friend is needed to guide us to home,
a voice in the wind,
singing not alone,
the words of wisdom in their time.