3 September 2012
I don't just hear them sing - The rattling cords of the blackbird, And the sharp little cries of a robin, It's like I can feel her every word,
The sun is gone from this land, Its passing marked in song, Often I sit here and listen, Wondering how to sing along,
The sky is that silky navy blue, Sitting back in wonder and awe, An earthy scent of grass and wood, I drift on practiced notes without flaw,
My soul and my distant mind - Carried away on the touch of dusk, I spy Mr Blackbirds dark silhouette, Perched high on an old tree husk,
Whilst his song warns and protects, He calls forth the stars and the moon, I dream in fantasies of this other world, Breathe a gentle sigh, knowing night is coming soon.
Chorus at Twilight • Opuss № I