There are many sounds
that resonate
throughout the
world..

Such as the rustling
of leaves on a
cool autumn
morning

A crashing surf
at which we gaze
in sleepy awe..

The sound of the
newborn as it
grasps for its
mothers breast

There's the roar
of the crowd in
its exuberation
for a winning
team

The cry of joy
and of loss

And there's the
sound of War..
that alien frequency
disrupting the
natural temper
of our minds

Yet, another sound
emerges from the
ashes of human
destruction-

A voice..that
whispers a sweeter
refrain than the
monotonous repetition
of shells vanquishing
an enemy

That voice..an eloquent
echo of a forgotton
soul..

Has no sound that
the warrior in
his arrogance
would heed

It is not a voice
that bellows with
mindless and
futile rants
reveling in its
conquests

It is the clarion
call of the human
heart..though
supressed for a
season

Speaks truth in
the spring
of hope

The poets voice
sounding like a
lamb

Flinches not in
the face of
the lion

And though time
witnesses a
thousand generations

The poet stands as
an oracle in the
haze..between what
is, and what shall
be

The poets voice..
Ready at the
watchtower

Sounding the bell

A bell..
Which only the
inheritors of
the earth can
hear.