As I walk the long roads of the old red dust,
I taste your sweet words in my lover´s lost lust,
Those long lost poems now beginning to rust,
Those odes in dead voices that I always trust.
Ancient Ones,
in the wind I hear your screams,
Howling halleluiah in running rivers & streams,
Your soft retreating footsteps echo in my dreams,
Heeding your wisdom in plans & winding schemes.
Your winds howl away my sins with breezy bellows,
My deep sleep enfolded in your mantle of meadows,
While gingerly I
walk through my life on quiet tip-toes,
The Ancient ones are always near in billowy shadows.
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