by M. J. Schlagle

Created on: April 28, 2008

I HEAR YOUR VOICES

It started as a child,
I would wander wondering
between the stones.
Reading names of those who
walked this world so long ago.

Pausing at each tablet,
A red rose rock remembrance,
of worldly remains.
Dealing date and distinction,
heralding pains and gains.

My imagination flowing,
fleeting faces fill the fold
thankful for release.
Sipping sensual the soft sun,
slipping like breeze through trees.

Cock my head and listen,
their whispers walk the wind,
telling their tales.
Mindful much this mystic moment,
their voices wail through the gale.

I sit beneath the trees,
gathering the grassy ground,
in it's perfect hue.
Please, pause and ponder peacefully,
Yes it's true, I do hear you.

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