Ancient voices singing of the past…
The present… the future… No.
Singing a song beyond time—
The song of beauty.
Beautiful. Hear their echo sound.
Ancient choirs—voices dancing around.
Their song! Their song!
I hear it in the trees.
I hear it in the mountains.
Their voices wave with the sea.
Their echo dredges through canyons.
Birds chirp and whistle.
Horses neigh and whinny.
Flutes, shimmer and bristle.
Oboes, bright and woody.
Grass bends and sways.
Ancient choirs sing—
Eternally sing
For the Ancient of Days.
And yet their song is here,
Here with me.
Right now. In this moment,
I hear them sing.
