A Thousand Years of Living

When we walk through speckled landscapes
where the shape-shifters dance,
we are walking in the footsteps of the ones
who came before.
There are signposts they have left us
all across the forest floor.
A thousand years of living -

we don't set our sail  by chance.

We are walking in the footsteps of the ones
who came before.
The Old Ones' songs I hear upon the breeze.
A thousand years of living -
we don't set our sail by chance.
I sing wolfsong to the mountains and
knock on midnight's door.

The Old Ones' songs I hear upon the breeze,
under my feet the brittle leaves of summer past.
I sing wolfsong to the mountains and
knock on midnight's door.
The night air whispers: here you are,

here you are at last!

Under my feet the brittle leaves of summer past.
There are signposts they have left us
all across the forest floor.
The night air whispers: here you are,
here you are at last!
Walking through a speckled landscape
where the shape-shifters dance.


One from the fall of 2013, kids, hauled out again to share with the Poetry Pantry at Poets United.