Echoes can sound beautiful
As they bounce and reflect
From somewhere back there
To round about here
And then right down your ear

My favourite echoes
Come from one man
Whose skin reflected
A Greek tan

Those sounds that left his throat
Over 2000 years ago
Tumbled through deed, word and page
Reflected by books and tales
Through to this very age

That echo has grown and changed
But we can at least glimpse
At its central refrain
To be humble, and to think
To ask questions

As revolutionary now
As back then
These echoes find us
For ever relevant
And timeless

Thoughts and sentiments
Echoes that seem
Only to grow in consequence
The beauty of echoes
Is that they go further than anyone knows

Dave James Horn ©

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