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Roads

Roads
© 2005 George Reed

In the after of before I look upon the road,
Never asking is there more, do I want to know?
Something silent in a lake. Something raging out of hearing.
Grudging lesson I may take when is time to go.

Seven sigils in the morning shine above the break of dawn.
Seven silent shout a warning in their silent song.

Eagle flies to waning day, wings alight with fading fire.
Eagle lies to wait a day, sunward it may fly.

Come and sing the silent chanson, carry word of yesterday.
Come and bring riches and some grief found on the way.

Why will I soar soon skyward, lifting wing over the valley
Why will I climb the high wind when I soon as stay?

In the after of before I look upon the road,
Never asking is there more, do I want to know?
Something silent in a lake. Something raging out of hearing.
Grudging lesson I may take when is time to go.

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