Sounds of The Edge

[ChatmanTL]

Sounds of the Edge
T Lewis Chatman


a blinding sun shows its presence and power
beaming down and reflecting back its heat from the grains
the caw of the fouls doing their aerial aerobatics
searching to find a daily sustanance for within
the wind is a never ending howling roar in the ears
the spoken word at one's greatest decibal
is halted in its travel at only a few inches from the lips
the dominanting sound of the deep and wide valley of waters
they whisp, the salted wash pounces on to the feet
and ornaments of stones cascading off of Gaia
layers of foamy froth bubble and slowly disappear
as impregnating the mother shifting in constant torque
this is where it is said the celestial chior
sings praise to the Great Creator in the morning of every day
for He has caused spin, light and life to Gaia
and her skirt waves and flaps in arrays
of blue and even green in places
open and wide, her waters have an eternal song