Raucous Songs

Sea-shells call out
in raucous tones
sibilant sighs and
pregnant thoughts
Would that the bird
circling the sky
      
Hiding in clouds
darting to the stars        
Hitch a ride and be  free,
wheeling diving,
plunging sinking,
in that morass of
grey and crimson
        
cloying shades and dank Fingers      
Those dappled lights and
springy moss covered stones
        
Make Me run the
scoured sands of Time        
whence did We start
whence will We finish,

Often
I think answers are
in those caves
       Maggoty and vile        
empty sockets
full blown ripe fruitbulbs
        
Drawing as desired
then again      
Taking and feasting  
He knows naught else,
needs a one to feed Him
       slake His gluttony      
Who dares be the one
to fill His Needs