Sue, I like, but have suggestions:
Made from the ancient magic
of music and dance;
made from the inchoate longings (no the)
that live unexpressed,
it draws me toward the storyteller's fire; (I'm drawn.)
and in the night beyond the cave (from this and to human, I would shorten,
you might be stronger if for example, the cave and song lines were left out.
But I think you need to explore which.)
where darkness lurks ready to descend
and blot out that story, that dancing fire,
something old as the stars sends forth its frail voice,
a song in the midst of fear, in the midst of loneliness,
a voice that wavers but goes on singing
of what it means to be human.
A chant, a hum, a drum reverberating like the heart-- (no a's or ing)
all join an updraft that sends sparks upward (no all)
while voices blend, telling of the hunt, (another list, where you might gain
strength is fewer)
the end of hunger,
what it means to be alive and in the light.
Each word, though guttural, half-formed,
is my attempt to unwind the Celtic knot,
to add my hand print to the shadowed wall.
Good luck.
Gary
Dec Byron Sacre at: http://gardawg.homestead.com/gardawg.html... Writer's
Hood at http://www.writershood.com/... Poets for Peace.... ˇPoemas sí, balas
no!
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