u/Own_File_918

My, if the Earth could speak, 

The stories she could tell. 

Of the mountains that roared as they rose from the deep, 

And the secrets the canyons and riverbeds keep.

In the silence of stone where the ancestors sleep, 

There the echoes of lost ages do dwell beneath our feet.

In the midst of a dawn that was ancient and grey, 

Where the spirit of life found a marvelous way, 

There were great beasts who walked in the golden array, 

Of a world that was wild and a world that was vast. 

Through the ferns and the fronds in the emerald light, 

With a thunderous tread and a great shimmering might,

Of creatures lost to the past.

Like a dream that awakens in the middle of the night,

The great dragons of bone from the Earth’s past.

But only the skin of the Earth has the memory, heavy and deep, 

from the shadows of children she promised to keep. 

Now the willow trees bend, and the lonely skies weep, 

For the pulse that has gone from the clay. 

There is grief in the gust of the salt-heavy gale, 

In the hollow of hills and the ghost of a trail, 

For the many grand dynasties that are gone, 

and their lives that grew pale, 

As the majesty melted away.

Can you feel how the wind hums a melody of old? 

Of the scales made of iron and feathers of gold.

Of the stories of wonder that wait to be told, 

Hidden just under the sigh of the shifting sand. 

For the epochs are sacred, and the unending pulse is wide, 

With the grace of the stars above and earth as our humble guide.

They are gone from our sight, but they still walk by our side, 

In the ghost-haunted reaches of the land,

That time has not forgotten.

So when we look to the heavens with a tear in our eye, 

We see the shadows of wings drift across the dark sky.

Though the world has grown quiet and ever more still,

The magic of old is a spark that won't die.

Oh, the Earth has a voice if you listen to hear. 

In the beat of your heart, 

and in the breath of the year. 

With a beauty so bright, it is a sin to fear, 

and a strong symphony she longs to sing.

Edit: Stanza separating.