In suspension, waiting
to feel the storm below,
I watch it churn and roll and tumble
It’s the thrill before the fall
that cuts these lights so sharply
from the shades.
In the depth of this stark stillness
the light around the forest leaves
and the colours seem now sharper
from this height.
When the loneliness starts biting,
let it bite
and it will bleed out lovely sadness;
beautiful like violins
on winter mornings;
Lovely like that face I saw
in fading light,
in fading love.
I want to find that footpath
that will lead me from the city,
and through wind and rain and hail will not turn back.
Will you bear my eager feet across
the endless golden fields of summer,
over jutting peaks that touch the sky in autumn;
across the hills and valleys of the winter,
to where the forest spirits hum
in dappled light in spring?
In spring, in love,
a perfect love
that will never fade.
Let’s find a brooke that giggles softly,
lovely, like a child;
we’ll follow it together,
until it grows through many seasons to a roar!
And by the time we watch it open up
and out into the sea,
we will have grown old; old friends,
our skin lined with all the tales of our travels.
I will rest my tired feet
and we will rest our tired bones
upon the coast.
The sun will set over the water,
and the stars that we have grown to know
so well will kiss our cheeks and say