in your solitude, whose sad eyes somehow
reflect hazed sunlight glowing behind you,
face framed by gleaming ebony hairflow,
you whose classic closed mouth invites all to
listen for your whispered word—tell us when
gods speak to you of our earth’s history
and future. Inspire our lives with legends
never told. Warn us of nature’s glory,
bold against our constant assaults. But most
of all, when we're alone, whisper rhythms
learned in your womb, blessings from ancient ghosts
guiding your eternal forces, those hymns
only our past and future lives teach us
when no other voice on earth can reach us.
Roger Armbrust
February 5,
2014
