SUMMER'S SONG

Does music end without a
voice
Does moon regret it's reckless
choice
To rise and block the warmth
of day
And birth the shadows now at
play, and

Is the dawning filled with
pain
To bid it all begin again
The endless cycle life and
death
The birthing then the end, of
breath, and

Does a god ever forsee
The brokeness of all of we
Who feel each snap of twig
and leaf
Who wail each note of loss
and grief, then

Wander lost in each new day
Searching those we've lost,
mislaid
Flowers freshly dead in hands
To hide the graves on which
Our feet now stand