They are singing.




I sang once like they did,
someone did sign,
to the horn beyond the hills,
all those mills.

The shepherdess does let down her tress,
that will your fear undo,
as seductive as the virgin,
his love is making you.

Somewhere there is a tear,
that at world's end,
will appear.

As singing hope of life,
go you tormented strife.

The laser eyes of do you fall?
The horn beyond the hill,
skippin' tabla still.


Fish,
jumping and coming upstream.
The willow is a growin'
and there is been.

The smoke has gone away,
we wait the coming of the rain,
as if the desert blooms,
the kid with the red balloons.

So soon.

What parcel by the living tree?
Mr. Sufi said to me,
this a thee.

I said to him so free,
only olives and oil,
will undo this foil,
our mighty soul.

Like Mr. Lawrence tied to a fence,
of why cannot this beautiful boy have a lemonade?
the fire he fought,
is love of aught.

Yield and forgive,
we shall not walk alone.

~