Lugh’s Garden

Somewhere on the wind,
A whisper from my lips is
Searching for her ear.
Some day, when she turns her head,
A breeze will say, “I love you”.

Like sad night music,
Coming from a distant place,
I hear you singing
The loneliness of your life,
Each word, within a new tear,

Each tear following
Others to form a river,
A flood of sadness,
Washing happiness away
From a heart longing for love.

So much love to give,
So few hearts standing open,
Willing to be loved,
So much fear creating walls,
Souls, returning to the egg.

I wait in the dark,
Knowing on some distant day,
The walls will crumble,
Sad tears will no longer flow
And our night songs will be joy.

The winter clouds had taken hold
Of more than winter skies,
Their icy grip held fast my mind,
And fog-bound were my eyes.
But somewhere in my memory
A lilting voice did sing,
For just a moment I could hear
A Robin in the spring.

That joyous song began to melt
The winter’s icy hold,
And soon my heart and mind were free,
Delivered from the cold.
Though daffodils and jonquils bloomed,
I waited for one thing,
To hear the voice I longed for most,
A Robin in the spring.

If I had just one wish to make,
I’d make the wish for you,
For I’ve had blessings quite enough,
To pass along a few.
So I shall pray you’ll find the joy,
The year’s first flowers bring,
And hear, within your heart, the song,
Of Robins in the spring.

How sweet, the song, her laughter brings to mind,
So gently sung, like Angel choirs on high,
Nor yet, on earth, its equal might I find,
Except within the sparkle of her eye.
Dark waves of night wash ‘round a face so fair,
Not even Troy can claim a finer prize,
Though flecks of gold, like stars, shine in her hair,
To echo sun-lit seas, that are her eyes.
Her touch, and gentle word, can bring the sun,
Tho’ storm-tossed night prevails when she’s not near;
I must awake, shake off the night, and run,
That I might kiss the hand I hold so dear.
How bold, my dreams, to wish for one so fine,
How sad, my life, alas, she is not mine.