Once
Once we struggled side by side
and each step seemed as trying as the years and fights we'd shared.
Once we dreamed of black sails on the tide
and on waking found the world we knew would never be prepared.
Yet we wander on through ashes, cold and still,
holding vigil in ruins by the sea,
choosing pathways no other wanderer will,
Meeting myth, seeking stories - long legend when time itself was young
our own tale stays unsung
Still we carry on, so other songs may be.
Once
Once we stared truth in the face,
in the night of long silence at the brink of the world.
Our small hut was the heart of hope and grace,
While outside, like mem'ries, careless snowflakes danced and swirled.
And we said our farewell to love at last,
to the child that never would be born,
the Ash tree stood wistful and forlorn
then the circle was broken, words unspoken, a sigh and we went back
and fate swallowed our past
as the storm of days to come erased our track(s).
I've been soldier sage and servant
I've been mother, brother, wife.
And, oh, I've longed and loved, I've feared and fought
far too much for just one life.
I've found so much more than I have ever sought
enough to fill a hundred little lives.
Once
Once the night was deep and mild
And the sound of our laughter echoed through the lamp-lit street.
We looked in every face and slowly smiled,
for the wine and the moment were so staggeringly sweet.
And the stars shine on alleys, roofs and wells,
on the army amassed beyond the walls,
and we sing to the thousand sounds and smells,
to the wonders around us - the glory - the greed and pride and art
our city and our heart,
let them know we'll still be singing when it falls.
Once
Once I found love in a tale
and the tale turned and loved me back and stepped out from the veil.
One I felt a new life stir in me
like a small, cheerful butterfly, a ripple in the sea.
Now the butterly is dancing through my days,
swift and bright, like a laughter on the breeze,
telling stories to teddy-bears and trees,
a glimpse of tall towers - - - cool waters - - - of ancient, moss-grown ways,
she slips through the hidden door
singing a song no-one's ever heard before.
She's a wolf, a witch, a wanderer,
she wields sceptre, wand and knife.
I look at her, and dreams look back at me,
far too many for one life.
I look at her and wonder who she'll be - - -
I wish her well for each and every life.
Godspeed, my love, for all those hundred lives.