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Through the trees spears the sun |
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Through my heart pierce the dawn |
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We arrive in a robe of smoke |
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In silence and gilded cloak |
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And my thoughts they linger they linger |
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It's in the leaves and the patterns and the fire |
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The trees the shadows and the path |
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It's in the spirit of this clearing |
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With its incense and its blackbirds |
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Something approaches and the air thickens |
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The oak it bows and willow sighs |
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The lark sings in the bower and day dies |
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Soon the stars glisten in their cold lament |
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We pass the linden to the sound of the coming darkness |
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Something approaches and the air beckons |
