My dream is the dream of life
Found in death, freed by death
A sorrowful thing am I.
I sit upon the tree alone, it’s branches tremble not, for it is I who shivers
My shaking wakes the earth, no other birds will sit with me, the onlooker, the gazer of things.
My song the song of my forefathers, breathes life, calls death, a waiting thing am I
Alone, so very alone.
Yet to my silent tune the clouds they dance, they cry, they move.
To my silent dance we hold each other and smile and weep for a lost tomorrow
Somewhere within the space between the stars, held within the moment is my place.
A perfect place, a quiet place, where I belong
where I am real ∞