My father,
staked his claim
upon the sun,
moon and stars
and love

and he gives me
his daughter
everything

How patient are the arms of the trees
To hold out and hold on
To the weight of the weighed winters snow
In place of their own
Their children, their leaves
Which have long since left left for the distant ground
Having moved on to another town
How they’re holding on and beholden now
How kind are these?
Such winter trees

If I could ask one thing of you
Make one wish
It would be that one day you would see this sight
Exactly as it is
Just like this
Standing atop this former mountain
Looking down into the valley of change
For miles and miles
Just to witness it
To view this world
Not as it once was or could’ve been
But for the beauty of the fading mist
For the aching, moaning, weeping wood
Which cries out for eyes
Which slowly degrades as the hilltop fades
Beneath the last few rays of light
As the day succumbs to the edge of night
Know that all that I want for you is to see
What it is, what it was
And what I suspect that it means
At least to my eyes and the likes of me
From this hilltop I wish you could see

A pendulum, rocking to the heartbeat of eternity
In time, in tune, in step with the world
Inside of the footprint of this city street

Like a whisper in the passing wind
Or a whistle nearby yet unseen
Striding forward with a massive force
Unstoppable as the former me

This is the essence of my own demise
And the love which grew too strong and too quickly
In order to keep my song alive

And yet through this I've become an entity
So I will rock for eternity, back and forth atop the hill
And also in the flatlands in the east
Where the whispers were first heard to me