The poems on this thread all have one thing in common. They are based on one of three important romantic themes: the beauty of nature, the innocence of childhood, and the corrupting influence of human society.
My poem is based on a cave painting.
Time passes . . . fades upon all things,
settles foul dust upon all.
Time was . . . this wall breathed with life.
And shadows cast there,
took on a life
Beyond the jagged amber glow of fire.
Beneath the sheltering sky of rock caverns,
we sat and feasted.
Recreated bold days
of brave men coloring their world.
Men lived . . . drank the blood of the earth
and the blood of beasts.
Time was . . . massive creatures foraged through endless meadows,
the canopy of heaven unspoiled.
And men brandished, sharpened steel,
shook off the slumber and fear,
seeking the glory of the hunt,
the triumph of the kill.
Time passes . . . but these walls, though faded, never lie.
Truth etched in stones older than man.
Do you hear the death cry of the beast?
or the yells of ecstasy from the panting hunter,
whose spear tip has found its mark?
Come closer if you dare . . . light a fire,
breathe the dust of a thousand years,
and Listen to the sound of Time.