Quiet gloom descends on underground
and as we bend more
in dilligent search
to understand,
and downward stoop, mid ranks of rock,
damply oozing.
First glimpses of dim subterranean trip
into ancient caves
abound with spectres,
some of which,
depicting dig-thirsty first explorers,
sanitise the past.
We pass tombs of ancient bones whitely
gleaming, long exposed
to cavernous wet,
cordoned away from touch by prying
inquisitive fingers
they now lie in state, for tourist eyes,
and sadly disintegrate
Roaming rooms of high and domed
stalagmitic beauty in stone,
we patiently wait while
guide en-trances us
with vivid tales of recorded fantasy,
and eyes glaze
while trying to envision such
old cave-folk
in their rocky world.
Uncanny now the silence, with bright
spotlights gone, uncurls,
and we stand
amid pitch-black
as strange animals, suddenly growling
make us start,
and loud with snarls
the dank air thickens as it vibrates
and sound rebounds.
We, airless, sigh as the guide lights back
our way to modern day
and to reality's fevered need
for fairytales,
which for now is met,
while entombed rock, wet with past
of shrunken worlds
lures yet another tourist group,
and leaves
on us its potent mark
as history recedes.
Excellently portrayed and it put me right in there with you viewing the ghostly cavernous space. Fascinating places one doesn't want to miss seeing. Great write.