breathe the leaves;
harmony with trees
to clear the dust from weary lungs
and plant the ancient seeds.
we cleanse our chest in sacred tongues,
as wood can never bleed;
paint the skys with all our eyes
and let our spirits scurry free.

our bones do ache
and fingers shake,
as we watch death die
where our peace is made

crescendos of light will lead us through the night
astral wings stir winds of flight
amidst the vast celestial light
we own the sky; we run the night.
and with god, we share our sight.

with god we share our sight.