2016 06 19
For fifty years I walk my road alone
along singing rivers by laughing hills,
plucking apples from my ancient tree friends,
and sing to the smiling moon every night.
I climb a steep mountain to kiss the moon,
crawling through bushes, leaping across trees,
and climbing up steep cliffs of crumbling stones,
then stand at last on top of the round world.
I reach up my hand to caress the moon
but it shimmers so close, far beyond reach,
while she breathes wind that blows through my soul,
and I feel the world spin toward burning stars.
I feel a thousand stars burn in my eyes,
and everyone becomes a face I knew
long ago before I gave them all names,
and see them all when I look down at dawn.
I see a thousand people walk alone
on a thousand roads winding in dark woods
as if they all search for someone they lost,
so I clash stones and spark a fire they see.
My fire burns white on the high mountain peak,
then I dance wild and sing the laughing wind,
so all the wandering people climb my hope
and gather on the peak of singing fire.
The young woman with eyes of silver stars
hands me an apple and kisses my heart
and calls me the father of mountain fire
when all our small children hold hands and sing.
I wake in the eyes of children I sire
who wander in spirals on ancient roads
far beyond the peak of our mountain fire
who return every season to our home.
My skull sits high on a singing stone
for ten thousand years, long after I die,
while my soul sings in the children I sire
who build ten thousand cities sea to sea.
Now laughing wind alone on mountain peak
dances to music of my beating heart
where fire I sparked long ago burned to ash
but my dream flickers in eyes of your minds.
Though no one ever gathers any more
on mountain peak where I sparked fire of hope
our children gather in every lush land
around the globe and sing again our dream.
Look in the eyes of everyone you love
and see the glow of love we share in feast
for though we die we are alive tonight,
dancing with the father of mountain fire.