CANTO 85 If our song comes so easy

 

If our song comes so easy

it must be from a height.

Living so long in the dark,

playing flute/violin in the light.

 

We can smell what we fear,

call it honeysuckle rose.

We can face what is near,

walk the path that we chose.

 

When they cry all is lost

touch a blueberry to our lip.

When it’s pinched by bitter frost

there’s a nectar we can sip.

 

We can romp in a fluted meadow,

splash in a honeysuckle lake,

there’ll be sunlight in our shadow,

for all beings’ sake.

 

We couldn't hear our song before.

See the beach with bluebell sand?

We’ve reached the farther shore,

we can walk the pure land.