The sentinels have
been waiting for
my visit today
I feel their greeting
they want to
tell me more
I am
a willing listener
They know
I will weave
the granite and moss
into tales of
fluid words
to be placed
upon a page
marking time
which moves
so differently
for them
than for my
limited human me
I have my stories too
The buzz and pulse of me
is in my storyteller heart
It whispers to me
without pause
I ask them
to tuck my poems
my dreams, my visions
away
place them deeply
within their grey bellies
for another time
and place
when a new wordsmith
arrives
I sit with them
for hours
wait for the sky
to stop bleeding blue
into purple plum ebony
A moment in their eternity

















Comments: 28
Excellent wordsmithing.
Thanks for sharing and submitting to
The Surreal Circus.
Featured in Triple Name Club.
Mare~