This is the second posting of a poem that lost a few of its lines the first time around.
Deep down dark
In a wood of ancient sounds and wonders ….
When All the World Was Surely Done
When all the world was surely done
The nods and gestures set in stone
A woman came from far away
She walked the gray beach all alone
In silken tunic, olden, rare
In golden sandals, braided hair,
As all about her silence lapped
Her footprints disappearing there
Soft in the mist of gentle rain
The gray beach quiet, smooth and plain
She sang a song that rose the dawn
And something stirred to start again.
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