Time, said the bird,
As it flew through the bay,
Catching the wind
On that fine summer’s day.
Alone, it flew by,
As I watched from the sill;
Its feathers so white
As it flew past the hill.
Stop, I had wailed,
As his storm hit my shore;
But the damage was done
As I lay on the floor.
Sky, you and I,
We’ve been here before;
Sharing this tale,
Perhaps more and more.
Clear was the glass,
As I stared through the pane,
Wondering just then
If the sky was to rain.
Done, said the sky,
With a wink of its eye;
Time to get up,
here’s no need to cry.
Peace, he did cry
As he stepped on the boat;
I watched with a smile
As he settled afloat.
Dark, warned the sky,
As the boat set its sail;
The warnings were there
To live through this tale.
Listen, dark sailor,
The sky is no friend;
The boat tried to help
His friend in the end.
Hell, she will send us,
If you carry this through.
But the man would not listen
To the boat who held true.
Wild, called the storm,
As it blew through the hall,
Tearing and shaking
The paint on the wall.
Hope, I did feel,
As the sky fought my cause;
Smashing and banging
The air without pause.
Break, cried the storm,
As it picked up the boat.
The man and his friend
On the water were smote.
Death was his lot
As he sailed on the sea;
I waited ashore
For my life to be free.
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
Time, said the bird,
As it flew through the bay,
Catching the wind
On that fine summer’s day.
Alone, it flew by,
As I watched from the sill;
Its feathers so white
As it flew past the hill.
Stop, I had wailed,
As his storm hit my shore;
But the damage was done
As I lay on the floor.
Sky, you and I,
We’ve been here before;
Sharing this tale,
Perhaps more and more.
Clear was the glass,
As I stared through the pane,
Wondering just then
If the sky was to rain.
Done, said the sky,
With a wink of its eye;
Time to get up,
here’s no need to cry.
Peace, he did cry
As he stepped on the boat;
I watched with a smile
As he settled afloat.
Dark, warned the sky,
As the boat set its sail;
The warnings were there
To live through this tale.
Listen, dark sailor,
The sky is no friend;
The boat tried to help
His friend in the end.
Hell, she will send us,
If you carry this through.
But the man would not listen
To the boat who held true.
Wild, called the storm,
As it blew through the hall,
Tearing and shaking
The paint on the wall.
Hope, I did feel,
As the sky fought my cause;
Smashing and banging
The air without pause.
Break, cried the storm,
As it picked up the boat.
The man and his friend
On the water were smote.
Death was his lot
As he sailed on the sea;
I waited ashore
For my life to be free.
