Sitting with the Ancient Ones

On an ocean floor
Two miles above the sea
Sit the Ancient Ones
Hands held in supplication
To the sun
Life climbs, tying knots into
Twisted skeletons
The remnants of a vast empire
Now lie scattered
In isolated landscapes.
Behold!
The unfolding of a hundred
Generations, man time
Upheld within 
A lifetime and no
Sign of quitting.
Days and seasons
Melt into simple awareness
Held here in the howl
Of windswept dreams
That pass from hope
To now. 

© 2004 Joe Rigney