A Willow's Epitaph

O’ timeless Nordic whisper,

Bring unto her this lay of mine.

Thou art the herald of winter —

May this prayer etch an epitaph in time.

May the stars not lour in thy presence,

Nor the winds bid unkindness stay.

May thy steps ruffle no affliction,

No vexation dare mar thy visage.

No dawn shalt see those breaths falter,

Nor thy heart be swept by the sorrow’s tide.

May thy brow ne’er lower, nor thine eyes weep —

Let the heavens themselves mourn me.

If death should call me ere the morrow,

Let mine epithet linger upon thy lips,

Not in grief, nor woe, nor vain lament,

But as a whisper the veil dares not steal.

For thou art my dawn, my dusk, my prayer unspoken,

My gospel unwritten, my fate unwoven,

The only hymn my soul hath ever known.

And if the veil dost claim me now,

Let it know —

I have loved thee beyond life itself.

O’ sovereign sigh of the midnight tundra,

Bare this plea o’er the seabeams.

May it grant this wistful willow

A slumber unshaken, an everen dream.