and I am enveloped in perfection.

eyes closed, I stand, the ground beneath

         soft and pliant, teeming with life.

around me the forest sways in a cooling wind,

                                                        and I sense

         that all about are countless melodies

    with different keys and clashing cadence

                         but one rhythm, one song.

 

and as I hear this rhythm my heart beats 

             with one pulse,

                     the pulse of the Wyrd.

     I open my ears and I taste its power and glory

for I am one who is Keeper of this

                  this most precious power

          this unequalled beauty

    this beat of shadow

              I know the shape of a coda

and I know the inevitable pull of its crescendo.

 

and when I smell the rhythm of the Wyrd

    I taste the petals of roses,

            prick my tongue on possibility.

I see then that I am one with this rhythm,

       one with this power and glory,

       one with the song that still echoes

              that we are the heralds of rebirth

              that we are the singers of summer

 

I stand beneath the sun and I know

           that the rose sings the Shadowbeat