Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Stirrings of the Past


Once when I was young and lusty, not as now with thoughts so musty,
Did I long and yearn to see beyond the veil.
I could sense the mystics saintly, in my mind’s eye e’er so faintly-
And the Spirits of the past did long prevail.
Will those thoughts forever grieve me,
Will they never, ever leave me,
Can you just, in time, believe me?
Say the Muses “Ever fail!”

Then I took to mountains sensing, Rocks and Petroglyphs- not mincing
Words which soon would ferret out the grievous tale.
How the Hittites in their rockwork, in their tasseled shoes like clockwork,
Wove the story and the tapestry, oh so pale.
And the ancient Jews before them- is it possible to ignore them?
Time and time I always swore them;
Say the Ancients “Stay the sail!”

Now I hear the music ghostly, it is in my psyche mostly,
And it penetrates so deeply in my armor mail;
Yet I quickly never lose it, with senility I peruse it,
And now lately I accuse it- of the loss of will and Spirit O so frail.
Did Sumerians, yes, so burly and the men who came most early
Feel the urgings and the mergings of the inner sounds that wail?
Quipped the cynics “Stop the tale!”

Lately I have turned to thoughts of Turkey- where the peaks and crests so murky,
Hide the musings of the past within their vale. How the dağlar
and their sounding, speak a plaintive language- founding
For the rhythms and the songs of humans’ trail.
Now I long to ever hear them, take their vibes and never fear them-
All those sounds will e’er endear them.
Speak the köyli “Hear the wail!”

Tell me, oh, now all you mortals, ye who pass through all these portals,
Don’t you hear all of those whisperings and the sighing through the gale?
If you never, never feel them, then with Life you’ll never deal them
All the hands they should have gotten throughout the Pale.
Listen, listen- hear the longing; hear the earth’s mysterious songing-
Hear the creaking and the gonging.
Say the Muses “Never Fail!”

Harold L. Overton