The Astral Composer

Unbind the black deeps of heavens eternal,
Grant to the sorcerer hymns of cosmic bearing
Hear melodies of lunar sonatas drift down
From skywards, through cave, to roll on toward the sea.

Channels the sorcerer music from sky's depths,
Draws nocturnal tones from the winds overpassing,
Sends arias of symphonic discourse abysmal
To hinder time waning and coursing and slipping
To halt season's ending and rebirth of next.

His cave has he crafted with spells to guide him
Three tunnels has carved for the gath'ring of light-tones:
The top facing starward for moonlight to enter;
The east and the west for the sun's rise and setting
The beams are collected in pools lined with stone.

As time slows, so breath does, and dreamlike the air
Creeps with subtle set purpose like distending fog
Over gardens and thatched roofs expanding its reach
To fill plant-life and lungs with honeyed stupor.

The bard traveling, this perceives and wonders
What benefits could come from slowing of life time,
Why one could desire the slowing of life time
That orbits of sun and the planets might follow
That seasons may fall into timeless slumber.

As aeons bring echoes unfolding to him,
A chant rumbles forth from lips parted and moving
Resounding from chest not yet withered and stooping,
A chest like an oak trunk misplaced in the desert
Defying rains lacking, grown from magic seed.

Enshrouded in chanting thus passing through days
Until wakening moon departs from leafy boughs
Of western forest land of pine trees and birches,
Miles beyond which lie coast glittered with fragments.