The First Morning of the World

Tekst:

There’s a language without question marks.
You can read it in the rings of trees.
And in the wind and the river.
And in the sound of birds singing.
Has their song changed since they sang it once in Eden?
Oh, to understand the language of the trees...
the grammar of the earth...
the sounds and the songs from the first morning of the world.
But I am filled with nothing but questions.
And each one is bound together like logs on a raft,
Taking me down the river mile by mile.
Ever further away from the mountain top.
Ever further away from the borders of my heart.
Ever further away... away... away...
Away from the first morning of the world.
There is a torn map in my clenched first.
On it is marked where I have been
And where I want to go.
But this moment is not on any map.
It is in the rings of trees.
In the wind and the river.
It is in the sound of birds singing as they did in Eden.
In the songs on the first morning of the world.
Oh tree, Oh, bird, Oh, world. Oh, all of you...
Oh, forgotten garden! I am here.
Touch me. Teach me to sing notes that bloom like a canopy of leaves,
Meant to do nothing but feel the sun.