As Long As Our Song
You told me you had to leave your sinking ship,
that when you were rescued from your lifeboat,
you had almost died of cold.
Now I sit beside you on this park bench in the autumn light,
watch leaves turn yellow, red, silver, brown and gold.
Your captain could not navigate,
his crew were rebellious,
and a mighty foreign power would not release its iron hold.
We see a sparrow by a tree root,
its wings too small to migrate,
so winter it must endure.
Like any other person,
we do not know our fate,
our future is unsure.
Poetry brought us together,
a truth we find wonderful to know.
This miracle planted our tree,
now we can smile and watch it grow.
Your eyes are dark,
your skin clear and warm.
Our boat will find a lighthouse
when our path is broken by a storm.
No, the sparrow cannot follow the swallow,
the stork and the crane,
its wings are too small
to fly that far south,
so it must endure the winter,
here it must remain.
Some people don’t want us to get it right.
They’d prefer it if we got it wrong,
but as long as our song is in the light,
the sap in our tree will flow on strong.
Deer herds in winter
somehow manage to survive.
The thorn will splinter,
but the red rose will revive.