PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

An early day in the river

before dawn,

the sun just cresting

over the hill

A pair of ravens croak

in a high Oak,

calling down ancient ancestors

as waters swirl

The sun is peeping over

a craggy rock,

but the shadows are still long

over the stream

Evaporation fog floats like

a thin veil,

whispering to the sleepy

morning trout

I too, hear the whispers

of the past;

a lifetime of forgotten faces

lost to time

Their spirits have come down

to join me,

waste-deep in the swirly swirl

of mountain water

Cold waters coil round

a fallen elm;

something lurks below

a rolling swell

The first warm touch of sun

now high

in the ravens’ oak,

I remember my brothers’ smile

I have not departed, I am here

in your heart;

Here in the sunlit ripples, I hear

him say

I am here too, let me fly

with you,

beats my heart

in a bellowed, burned-out prayer

There is no hunger here,

I hear;

But it’s not your time,

the waters say

And there, just then

a wind

dipped into the vale

And a glorious rainbow

jumped

into the air

upon my hook

~/~