Wherein the deep night sky,
the stars lie in its embrace.
The courtyard still in its sleep.
Peace comes over your face.
"Come to me", it sings
"Hear the pulse of the land.
The ocean's rhythms pull
to hold your heart in its hand."
When the wind draws strong
across the cypress trees,
the nightbirds cease their songs;
so gathers memories.
Last night you spoke of a dream
where forests stretched to the east
and each bird sang its song;
a unicorn joined in the feast.
And in a corner stood
a pomegranate tree
with wild flowers there
no mortal eye could see.
Yet still some mystery befalls
sure as the cock crows at morn.
The world in stillness keeps
the secret of babes to be born.
Come to me my love.
Hear the pulse of the land.
The ocean's rhythms pull
to hold your heart in its hand.
I heard an old voice say,
"Don't go far from the land.
The seasons have their way
no mortal can understand."
