The Whispering of Kings

SWAMP LURE


A swamp water stillness
echoes the drums
Of an ancient Tribal way
And abounds through the breast of Billy's Isle
And brings a breath of yesterday
A breath that cools
these fakir feet
as they stood on trembling land
and lures me into
this wilderness
and roots me where I stand
The stillness bears a primeval air
that floats on ageless wings
and atunes the mind
to the awareness of
the Swamp's un-awakened things.
and I breathe a breath
un-breathed before
that chills my urge to roam,
for here amoung
the untamed hearts . . .
my heart has found a home.