See and hear the author read this poem:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SwZftaFYZgAFollow Not Echo's Path
Last night, Love, when sleep forsook me,
Softly then, I heard you call.
Spoken as a gentle murmur,
Still it echoes through the hall.
My role played is not Narcissus;
Take not Echo’s wood nymph role.
You’ll not fade nor pine without me,
For you have me, heart and soul.
Soon, my steps turn back to join you,
Banish pain and vanquish strife.
Naught will ever our love sever;
Constant love will be our life.
From: The Beckoning Hand
Copyright 2006 © James Walter Orr