Ancient

The drunken swiftness of the waves
Calms me 
From a reverie of unpredictable marches
A lost song of victory and losses
As she possessed the divinity of all things
Things high and low lay bare 
The stratum of bounty Hastings
The unnameable spoken mantra, the soma of life
Lying all over the fringe of all things
Knitted in a divine mastery
I knew the ancient waters, the green scenery
As the rivers comingle with the ever chanting song fare.