Beckoning Tides

By Gerard Traub

From beckoning tides

to every shore

the ocean finds its song

from whispers of fields

to the crying forests

such bitter seeds sown too long.

How common these shadows

casting worlds into night

the air closing winters cold

beyond any earth laid bare

the mountain finds its song

no more to be silenced and sold.

I hear the echoes

drumming a new day

with voices gathering upon the wind

where dreams take flight

and hearts bear courage

horizons awakening to another spring.