My blind tongue
FinsburyParkCarrots
Seattle, WA Posts: 12,223
My blind tongue
knows of the stag cry
the windroar of mountaincaves
the nightslaves to winterchill
the killers on the pilgrim road
and the seers who died with the bracken turning red
and my blind tongue
speaks of the young sun
and gods in each birdflight
and it tears up an old heart
and it's courted a dead soul
and it's scolded wild eyes
danced for new days
and best cursed the joys that fled
and cursed them dead
and my tongue tells of woods before they fell
and my tongue speaks the old tongue for me still
and my blind tongue
once tasted a corpsehair
and scared off a mad cur
and started an enterprise for quislings,
sizzling
now in the beautiful hell I helped them down to
(ha ha)
and my blind tongue
has rested on the old stone
the foam of the first sea
the breadth of the country
hill to glen
and then
my tongue became the landbridge
that first brought you here
and my tongue fashioned tinker
fashioned ware
and my blind tongue was every crowd in prayer
and my blind tongue
sang for the springlarch
and sang for mad Sweeny
and told where the birds swam
and followed sounds
everyeveryeverytime the churchbell
rang to me
my calling
my dumb calling
profound
my blind tongue
my blind tongue
_______________
Finsbury
knows of the stag cry
the windroar of mountaincaves
the nightslaves to winterchill
the killers on the pilgrim road
and the seers who died with the bracken turning red
and my blind tongue
speaks of the young sun
and gods in each birdflight
and it tears up an old heart
and it's courted a dead soul
and it's scolded wild eyes
danced for new days
and best cursed the joys that fled
and cursed them dead
and my tongue tells of woods before they fell
and my tongue speaks the old tongue for me still
and my blind tongue
once tasted a corpsehair
and scared off a mad cur
and started an enterprise for quislings,
sizzling
now in the beautiful hell I helped them down to
(ha ha)
and my blind tongue
has rested on the old stone
the foam of the first sea
the breadth of the country
hill to glen
and then
my tongue became the landbridge
that first brought you here
and my tongue fashioned tinker
fashioned ware
and my blind tongue was every crowd in prayer
and my blind tongue
sang for the springlarch
and sang for mad Sweeny
and told where the birds swam
and followed sounds
everyeveryeverytime the churchbell
rang to me
my calling
my dumb calling
profound
my blind tongue
my blind tongue
_______________
Finsbury
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I so relate...