Ancient Voices.

I hear the voices in the wind

calling through the trees,

and I listen to those voices

for they whisper things to me.

They tell of fears from long ago,

of tears from grief in waiting.


Soldiers who have left to fight

and shall not be returning.

Hopes and dreams not come to pass,

and feet that walked a lonely path.

The voices circle round the hills

along the valleys, across the plains.


Forgotten Souls misplaced in life

drifting through the midnight lanes.

Perhaps these winds are aeons old

they blew when life was young,

and then to all the sorrows hold;

Carried forth since time begun.


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