Astray

Does the night, more than the day, have charm?
Shame on those who sigh not a bit when they see a black sky twinkling
Shame on those who know not how precious are tears on a happy face
Pick a dandelion from the meadow and watch the wind smile
You tell me to let the thunderstorm play his orchestra
For by the weather which wins makes the poor seem lost
And they beseech banal briefs
So they could kneel and gaze Him in the eyes...

May your words travel places where love isn't to be found
Where we stumble where we bleed where we die of cold
Like a whispered breeze driving naked feet lighter
A strong black coffee in broad daylight
A companion met on the road of return.