Why do you summon me so long?
From where do I unwind my song?

From high, high, looking down,
Down here where I roll with the toll
Of death ticking, taking, sleeping, waking,
So many endlessly,
So many gone.

But I, high, see far, so far,
Praise, praise the coming spring
The ever changing scene
The beech leaves newly green
Against the new-washed blue
So bold, so green, so new!
The songs of humankind unwind
So beauty can belong.
Praise, praise the wonder of the days
Raise up your voice in song.

Head down I go around
The endless toll of dying
Though birds may now be flying
Through glorious springlike sky
Even your bold green leaves will die
And every voice that raises song
Will sing a little and be gone.

And yet they raise their voices, sing,
About the coming of the spring
About the glory of the world
The greening leaf that just unfurled
Last autumn’s leaves that strew the ground
Bright green above the deadened brown
The mulch that brings new life to birth
The glory of the glorious Earth.
They live, and know that they must die,
And yet they sing, and praise the sky,
And knowing that they’ll meet their ends
They dare to love their friends.
The world, and all their friends.
Oh join them in their song!

And every one to wonder on,
Every teeming thrilling mind
So full of dreams and time
My song’s the beat to underlie
Your song of praise that fills the sky
Gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, gone.

The sun, the sky, the human voice,
Oh praise the moment and the choice!
Oh lift your head in song!

The spiral ends in empty meat
No hope, no love, no breath.
And each one ends so incomplete
The ticking metronym of death
No dignity, so often pain
Drags at them like a circling drain
The loss of all they’ve been.
Old brown may feed new green
But why?
Why must life falter, fail, and die?
Each one so precious and unique
Then gone, no matter how you seek
The voice is stilled, the choice is killed,
Relentlessly the beats go on
And one by one they’re gone.

As skeins of cloud are woven by
The winds that tousle up the sky
As waves beat on the sand,
It’s hard to hear your tolling beat
To hear and understand.
But see them smile and share their seat,
For while they live they make and strive
And love the time they are alive
And love their friends.
Your call that brought me was a prayer
A shout you raised against despair.
So though you plod amid decay
Look up, look high,
Look up beyond the ends,
And see beyond the meat,
And praise
And hear their song.

Praise what
When they are gone?

Praise the fruit and the flower.
Praise the day and the hour.
Praise the song.

28th May 2022