A distant trumpet call

How far does the sky stretch past the furthest tree?

Over in the distance how many more birds are flying free?

A path it takes me to places beyond my imagination,

A road goes through the valleys and mountains.

Clouds why do you hasten along your invisible trail, 

you leave me behind  to weep and travail. 

Sun why do you wane like the moon so fast - it is almost night.

For I wish for the golden light, I wish for the day alight,

A distant trumpet call too alike a cry.

Look! Lift your eyes to the heavens and there over there, 

Over there do I see the bird of night, stars for feathers

And a tail so bright. 

Wait for me O bird of the night!

For I am about to walk past the gateway,

Listen to me! For I am about to declare a symphony. 

In the wake of mist and shower,

Here as it comes with the fading hour,

The sails are up and the wind has blown

For me to wander past that familiar arch of stone.

- And at last

Measure the height of the sky past the furthest tree,

And count how many birds are flying free.