And I know,
Oh breath behind the wind,
You know that I call to her
Cry to her, grin at the curves of her
echoed streets
From the waltz of memory, to the
tune of tomorrow,
I will always be a part of her
To add my notes to
the harmony of history, her
first song the last,
Her last song our final, unending
To hold that note into oblivion is all
I could ask
And all you have promised,
Oh light of the fire
I shall come to you
Ignited by your wind, for the sake
of her alleys
The drops of her rain on limestone
Drained into her heart to feed the
world
A man once wrote, you are
the grave of poets
And yet you whisper to me,
no poem is ever finished
Selah