Let the night air singe my lungs

And greet me from the eastern fields…

Through which her steps will shortly cross

To meet me in this formal hour

Followed by a wily crew

Of those who’ve come to seek redemption

Refugees from dying days

Protectors of a life disdained

Her features damp in silhouette,

She lights a lantern scarce of fuel

Then opens up that yellowed book…

Its pages twitching in the wind

A silent joy is well redeemed

We hurry for the morning nears

Brave companions clasp their hands

United through a furtive chant

Winter voices hoarse and hollow

Rise and fall in quaint accord

Words derived from ancient text

Live again in frosted form

Break of light sends us astray

 Dispersed just like a flock of crows

Out of character we shrink

Until it’s time to meet again….