Monday, December 21, 2009

Primal

In a cave far away
Up a mountain in an unknown place
Where dark trees gather in a shroud
Sits a lady upon the ground.

Her eyes are closed
As if she sleeps
And sometimes she smiles
But mostly she weeps

She's older than us all
Her years etched upon her face
Her skin is like leather
But still with beauty and grace

She's dreaming of us, her children
and how we live now
Each dream a live news report
To a mother disappointed and proud

She fears for the unborn
That sleeps within her womb
Who only waits to be born
Into a race bent on doom

Even in the winter of the world
And the winter of her life
She still gives and dreams
And watches her children die

Sitting in the past of the human race
She dreams her dreams and watches our ways
Sometimes blessing and sometimes cursing
The dreadful/wonderful day she pushed one of us out

1 comment:

Joxy said...

You do write beautifully :-)