From the recording Desolate Heaven
Asheville's Shindig on the Green and Van Morrison's "Moondance." A moisty woods along the river, rich in ferns. Woodthrushes fifing sound sculptures from the underbrush. A handholding walk. Then drifting. Losing touch. And finally, resolute, bravely kindling a hope of reconnection.
If someday the sway of fate should chase us intoConstellations that lie unforeseenWind your mind in time to bygone nights; you'll find usMoonlight dancing on the village green
Leaves that shivered in the shy southeastern breezesFell to earth and slowly decomposedPhotographs of two relentless lovers laughingBlind to images yet unexposed
Forest pathways weaving underneath the bramblesPulsing with the thrushes’ song unseenAnimated by the radiated sunlightFading trace of where our trail had been
The sage and the fool See the other’s face reflected in the pool
If one day the wraiths of fate should bait us intoConfrontations that lie unforeseenWind your mind in time to well-nigh nights; you'll find usMoonlight dancing on the village greenMoonlight dancing on the village greenMoonlight dancing