CANON in D (1st edit)



Base tones echo life’s slow weighted ache  

the sound of life passed by to history’s shape,

though clearly heard sadness is not its end

a last slow step and home to start again.


Grey landscapes fade as ever lighter strains,

brighten the air with music’s conjuring’s.   

The song calls out to hillside, seed and spring,

so all things, passed away, return again.


Answering sounds, logos no words constrain,

go soothing ancient fears and ending pain.

renewed each spirit rises to its place      

as Life traces the endless knot of grace.


The mothers song each wakened soul will heed

returning home unto the timeless call

where blessing each that quickening will bear

she shouts her life into the fruited seed.



Beyond my sight the pointed pennants flair

their tips cracking against the golden air.

Strings, bright voiced entrance this aging boy 

to waltz abandoned in returning joy.



Beneath the stars upon times endless floor,

we dance unsated lovers fate and grace

delight at rest, in change is rest embraced

content to have it so forevermore.


I waken to the truth they call a dream

who know not they have never waked

nor dreamt so sweet a thing as here is seen

in sleep so deep as waking time will make.


That every beauty sought in wish or will,

awakened when by art or grace we make,

an image blessed by that holy skill

that conquers all for love of life’s embrace. 

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