Hush I hear them now
Whispers behind closed doors
To secrecy all must bow
Lie still to hear this folklore:
There is a land far away
Upheld by stories of old
A place where none can stay
Memories are like treasured gold
It beckons all who hear its name
They go to live, to learn, and to Be
Ever-changing, never quite the same
A visit to that land: Cheniere au Tigre
To get there presents a riddle
So far, so close, and conveniently remote
Not by land or air, but somewhere in the middle
One travels only by boat
So close to the edge of forgotten
Cheniere au Tigre waits
In young minds stories are caught
And in dreams, they create
The land lives and breathes
Inhales in, Exhales out
Kept quiet by a blanket of leaves
While waves gently soothe throughout
Under its shady oaks
Or among the wispy reeds
Ancestral paths arise and evoke
The past and her entities
There is a magic of the air
That stirs in each passerby
To give a moment knelt in prayer
Or to let out a small cry
Through time it has stood
Although battered and near lost
As a symbol of that which is good
To say: Do what you must
Life takes us many places
Some close and others too far to see
Despite the journey and warm embraces
None are as lovely as Cheniere au Tigre
Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 9:43 AM UTC
Hush I hear them now
Whispers behind closed doors
To secrecy all must bow
Lie still to hear this folklore:
There is a land far away
Upheld by stories of old
A place where none can stay
Memories are like treasured gold
It beckons all who hear its name
They go to live, to learn, and to Be
Ever-changing, never quite the same
A visit to that land: Cheniere au Tigre
To get there presents a riddle
So far, so close, and conveniently remote
Not by land or air, but somewhere in the middle
One travels only by boat
So close to the edge of forgotten
Cheniere au Tigre waits
In young minds stories are caught
And in dreams, they create
The land lives and breathes
Inhales in, Exhales out
Kept quiet by a blanket of leaves
While waves gently soothe throughout
Under its shady oaks
Or among the wispy reeds
Ancestral paths arise and evoke
The past and her entities
There is a magic of the air
That stirs in each passerby
To give a moment knelt in prayer
Or to let out a small cry
Through time it has stood
Although battered and near lost
As a symbol of that which is good
To say: Do what you must
Life takes us many places
Some close and others too far to see
Despite the journey and warm embraces
None are as lovely as Cheniere au Tigre