Chanting Chants
Chanting Chants As the golden fingers of the sun Recedes into the belly of the evening sky My tear-bathed eyes looks on Seeking pebbles of happiness Amidst rocks of mystery and fear Searching for droplets of harmony That drifts in the river of chaos. The quietness of the evening breeze Wafts a chant of the old warriors Swaying to the jarring tune Stiff-leggedly rowing to the rhythm Hoping for nothing, dreaming no dreams All the time silently chanting chants Waiting to hear the voice of silence.