By Scott Bailey © 2014

They left a legacy written in stone
Plain for all to see
Yet there are less lucid signs
Discovered carefully

Lines that lay across the land
Tales of times gone by
Showing us in hidden ways
To be read by those who try

The tracks we walked long ago
The boundaries of old
A story laid on every hill
And every vale and fold.

And on our tongues and in our tales
Echoes of the past
Holy places beyond the cross
Beyond a gulf so vast

Shapes and forms from ancient times
Still glimpsed within the heart
Of dance and song and tales that burn
And every blessed art

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams

By Scott Bailey © 2014

So they gathered through all the seasons
No plan, no goal, no reason
Anyone would have thought they had agoraphobia
Reality, they imagined, could be held back forever

Socially seeking some satisfying Saturdays
Never needing new nighttime neon
All agreeing an admirable agenda
Rich raw results really render

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams