Above willow tree and woodland gorge, sloped down hilled wing
Night stirs passing heart bereft and my chant cannot sing
Be there duress by moonlit night, hearts loss and all lost things
A war comes up from sundown, no nature mind can’t sting
Please sing for the little one, who wakes in a lullaby
Feelings long the passing cloud, find rest when it floats by
But i am deep in trouble when a mad one became the sky
With a brush this child goes, to live and not loose time
Ease of wind, breath of life, through the trees this cradled night
Shadow of earth waking stars, of whom are made of light
Let us sing for the being of spirits, whose wings give us flight
For those who’ve passed sing for us, be them lost to sight
Place a candle on the water. Time cross the barren sea
See thy hand, small curl of flame, a boy who’s found in threes
Gather rye and heather sway, and walking near canopy
Where souls have met, to trust the spark, given though not set free
To be free might now be lost, the pain of growing space
So upon this bush, little birds abreast, chirping and gay of face
Let us sing for the living, for spirits sing to find this place
And those who’ve passed on sing for us, gone but part of grace
© Ben Marder