Set aside, oh heart of mine,

perhaps in room of murk,

safe by darkness held,

so safely within its cirque.


Wondering, oh, wander, hence

my feet tied to the ground;

tied to the world, I am,

tied faster than a Swainson’s Thrush.


Gracious mountains nearest me,

rumble me by name,

and greet me by the hand,

and a cyssan on my mane.


Trees, old sentient beings,

their history crystalline by memory,

their hearts soft red,

asking for my own.


Happen, that I won’t,

but lies did that true.

Running from the truth,

that held a thread of tongue.


So I go home, to and from memory sweet . . .


Just love this song 😉









5 thoughts on “Free

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