what of days
my soul was dealt –
and sacrificed to wonder
the sparkle of each star
the river’s will
just how
the mountains shiver
beneath a blanket –
deep and cold
the way the ocean rises
another moon to know
I’ve learned the song
of nightingales
the cry of turtle doves
stood beneath
an ancient elm
counting rings
the map of kings –
making my way
to love

what of days
my soul was dealt

. . .