CANNON in D
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.