Birdsong

I hear the birds come greet me in my morning,

They sing the songs of love in tongues of ages past,

And all the while a vision is unfolding,

The Moorhen pipes at me, "don't sleep the day away".

And so with cautious steps I tread

a measured path through vale and rook,

and many signs you'd want to take me with you.

And I go down to the Landing,

Heron's Flood flows on storm-clothed

As the harbour lights guide the wanderers home.

I see the sun come greet me in his dawning,

He holds the seed of life within his aged hands.

And, in the sky, a vast procession streaming,

Royal banners held aloft to mark the halcyon time.

And so I walk in meads below,

amongst the springs and weevil-gall,

in myriad throngs the grass will take me with you.

And I climb up to the Hawk's Throne,

Cragshorn lies at Umbrian

and the marram-slopes span the sapient sky.

I feel the night come bidding me his greeting,

He draws a glowing veil upon a sleepy world.

And in the sky the stars roll through the heavens,

below, the new-hatched dove stares wondrously above.

And so to Esma I am come

to forge a passageway through time

and all, too soon, you'd come to take me with you.

And I strike north to the veldt-plains,

Dorn Ridge melts in snow-gold.

As the Moorhen

pipes the pinkery moon.

Birdsong, so sweetly, hear them calling you

Birdsong, so sweetly, hark they're calling you