Season 4

I placed the necklace in Harmony's hand, and I asked
her keep til I returned. Once before I met her touch
but had forgotten what I'd learned. She kept black string
weaved in her palms with fingers tightened and discerned.
I met my love at a winter picnic to the sound of broken word.

The time that vanished beneath her eyes, have sworn the
beginnings of goodbyes. The moon once warned of our demise,
but I walked my course with a world so turned. The necklace
seemed heavy on her neck, I hope the lights will take it back.
With our memories less intact we'll watch the stars all fade to black.
As the photographs and palm read maps flood the fire's burn.

On the edge of the summer's lake, I try to take a breath
from the worn out alabaster box. Carrying the celtic symbols
of trust and the journey's we once crossed. I throw the rocks
to skip the surface of this so called life. That I might have found
her song written in the frame of night, and the rings we weren't
wearing and the love we weren't swearing. But we are bound.
Before there was anything to learn.

By the dawn we were meant to see the mornings call from the
balcony in a paradise they were destined to fall with a wind's
brush through a broken fern. The summer stayed, the summer gone.
The tides attempt at prevailing song. As Harmony's hand waits
for the return of our love in a new universe.

The sound of Broken Word.