Beckoning Tides
By Gerard Traub
From beckoning tides
to every shore
the ocean finds its song
from whispers of fields
to the crying forests
such bitter seeds sown too long.
How common these shadows
casting worlds into night
the air closing winters cold
beyond any earth laid bare
the mountain finds its song
no more to be silenced and sold.
I hear the echoes
drumming a new day
with voices gathering upon the wind
where dreams take flight
and hearts bear courage
horizons awakening to another spring.
