LuneRune
Posts: 33
Joined: 8/19/2008
Status: offline
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Come to me my little thrush
And I will hear your tales
In the dew dampened morning
When there's no one here
Come to me my little thrush
And tell me about your garden
With the leaning conifer
That shades wide open meadows.
I will come to you and sing
Of the rolling of the river
And the morning-glory rising
With the sun.
I will come to you and sing
Of the fleeing of the osprey
In that faded midnight as it
Turned away the sun.
I will come to you and sing
with the weeping of the roses
In the soft loosening of your hand.
Come to me my little thrush
While I lay down sleeping
And sing to me of dreamless dreams
I will come to you and sing
of mountains and their falls
and of soundless wings that beat
I will settle in your hand
Like the falling of the hour
As the daylight disappears.
I will sing to you of dreamless dreams.
I will come to you and sing
Of the lanterns in the windows
And of the curlew crying
On the wing
I will sing of the verdant gloam
In my meadows
Of the conifers melting in the glade
I will sing to you of dreamless dreams.
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Conifers: Eulogy for David - 
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