Let me kiss you on the frosted grass,
Where the white air burns your lungs.
Let me walk you through a secret wind,
Past the waterfall and the black rocks.
Let me take you to a quiet place,
And we’ll lie with the heather on our cheeks.
We will laugh and blow away the dust,
And curl up under the chatter of the trees.
Let me take you to the low light of the sun,
As it cuts the sky and bleeds out its yoke.
Together we’ll fall on the wrinkle of the fields,
And make prayers at the altar of the woods.
And as the fire of God keeps us hot,
I will whisper stories in my kiss.
I’ll heal you in a peaceful clasp,
And sing you to sleep with songs of myth.