Come kneel by the river
in your smock of red.
I’m falling all over
my old friend
You visit these waters
on the wings of a dream,
and I’ll wait ‘til the morning
as a test of your will.
To deny your danger––
that cannot be smart.
But how can I live with what I desire
without breaking your heart?

How I am devoted,
how I am callen,
to wait on your answer
even as I am fallen.
To the passing eye
I’ve been known to fly.
It’s a matter of breath,
and life, and death,
and riding the will of the sky.

My love is an anchor
that sinks in your sound.
Oh, feed me to the water,
oh, give me to the ground.
Oh, render my lover
delivered from shame,
as I have no harbor
and a desperate name.
Oh, tear me asunder,
and break all my chains,
and leave me to anchor
whatever remains.