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HEAR THEM CALLING
Can you hear them calling,
loved ones long gone,
In the sighing of the trees
when the day is done?
Listen as they call on the cold
winter breeze,
Or in the pounding of the waves
of earth’s mighty seas.
Hear them in the summer when
the lake is almost calm,
Like plaintiff birds crying
who mean you no harm.
In the rustle of the grass, their voice
so quietly, sadly call
I wonder if we ignore them
what will them befall?
Listen to the voices, seek
out those gone before,
Go and find them and widely
open each prison door.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson December 13, 2002