Sorrowsong

 

Sorrowsong

 

I heard whispers on the spring breeze:

A celebration beneath the trees.

It was arriving as soon as soon,

Under this spring’s fullest moon.

The procession began late afternoon,

And on the wind a nameless tune.

I followed, wandered far from home,

To spy this observe all alone.

 

And I sing my sorrowsong

Beneath the smokestain moon.

Of a world that may be gone,

And is long past it’s noon.

Still, I seek the fairy ring

Once known on forest loam,

And if I have to, I will sing

And there will dance alone.

 

 

I trailed these animals both great and small,

They gathered ‘neath trees stern and tall.

Assembled in a faintly glowing ring,

From the darkness I heard voices sing.

Music as water cool and clean,

Or visions of a world that might have been.

I watched from cover lying prone,

Though they were many, I was most alone.

 

Hear me sing my sorrowsong

Beneath the smokestain moon.

Of a world that may be gone,

And is long past it’s noon.

Still, I seek the fairy ring

Once known on forest loam,

And if I have to, I will sing

And there will dance alone.

 

The wordless sounds of both light and loss,

Of opening bud and fading moss.

Breath held waiting for something to begin,

Somber promenade, the creatures began to spin:

But it was sad ceremony that they made,

Of lost beauties and a world in fade.

There in my cover I could but groan,

Watching despair and I was all alone.

 

Now I sing my sorrowsong

Beneath the smokestain moon.

Of a world that may be gone,

And is long past it’s noon.

Still, I seek the fairy ring

Once known on forest loam,

And if I have to, I will sing

And there will dance alone.

 

I longed to join, to pay some fee,

Beg for pardon on bended knee,

Dancing a feeling of lost harmony,

Heartbroken waltzing under tree.

At last I could not but breach the trees,

Bursting with my apologies.

But the creatures had long flown,

And so I danced there all alone.

 

There I sang my sorrowsong

Beneath the smokestain moon.

Of a world that may be gone,

And is long past it’s noon.

Still, I seek the fairy ring

Once known on forest loam,

And if I have to, I will sing

And there will dance alone.

 

Men cater to their vanities,

Their wisdom housed in gray cities.

Strutting this earth all lordly,

Of all the beasts, the most beastly.

And when the last tree is final fell,

Will we think it very well?

When that last bird has final flown,

Will we know that we dance alone?

 

And so, I sing my sorrowsong

Beneath the smokestain moon.

Of a world that may be gone,

And is long past it’s noon.

Still, I seek the fairy ring

Once known on forest loam,

And if I have to, I will sing

And there will dance alone.

 

Cliff Lake 4/28/2026

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2026