Fields of smoke curl in ember-grey,

swallows drift in an amber sky…

the trees are black in twilight sway,

the winds are cold and frugal still.

Clouds harvest the pale gold of light,

as though collecting some sweet dew…

reflect the hue when comes the night,

disperse the power of the dark.

I needed you once, and it was odd,

not enough to be close to you…

I felt you in each lightning rod,

in the noise and in the silence.

In the mountain and in the lake,

you breathe magic into this land…

every desperate thirst you slake

is my fondest and sweetest need…

In the meadow and forest green,

in the wilds of the cliffs and rock,

beneath the water’s crystal sheen

I will search for you eternal.

Up, up, up rose the shining moon,

casting the rays of love down on me…

down came the gentle, nightly tune

of your voice, and drifted away.

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