THE ANCIENT HORN

By John Herlihy

The ancient horn breathed out its hallowed sound,

A melody seemingly drawn from deep in the ground.

The noble warrior blew again the mournful moan,

To mimic the sentiments of warriors as they groan.

They stood in dark silhouette against twilight’s color,

Mounted on stately stallions that reflected their valor.

The horn sounded of immense ivory cracked with age,

Shaped a crescent moon that glowed as a mythic sage.

Down thru history as the Kutrigar priests sacred horn,

Once dug up from the ground life’s mystery to adorn.

The tusk of an animal who no longer walked the earth,

The old horn appeared in ochre dust to claim its worth.

The spirit of the animal still lived in the horn as sound,

To live as breath and wind and music most profound.