If, anon, my eyes should close, my ears no longer hear
If, in time, a creeping dark should cover up all fear, a dreadful silence beckon close and say “dear one, come near”
Then I should glance once more upon the valley in my mind, a shimmer in the sky, a place where my love did once reside,
And standing there, amidst all doubt, my heart stand resolute, assured upon the wing and say “I know the way of things”
That I found love in every stone, in every hidden vale, the warm embrace of love’s exhale and quiet rippling laugh
A love that bursts and cries and shouts, for all the world to hear, that I am loved, and He is love, and comfort to all tear.
In moss and bough, in arms and smile, and every creeping thing, the joy that all Creation bears and pours toward it’s King,
To its Creator, and the one He put on Earth to sing.
So I will sing my quiet song, rejoice in each new love, cry my tears and shed my bones for all that I must prove, and in the balance know the truth, as often as I’m told
That all I am has been foretold, a tale of ancient days,
Yet unwritten, names me bold, and carries me away.