Alight

© 2013 C./R. Rothschild

 

It is a little lamp who brings me the idea of light

And who I carry with me

At all times in this darkening night

I do not know who it is that carries it in my hand.

 

I came upon a darkened road, falling, falling

that sloped down to the river. (Etc.)

I saw a lantern moving, I felt the branches shiver

When Who Knows Who is really there,  and who knows who is really there?

 

The blunt edge of the blade I fear, the blunt edge of the blade I hear you

hammering, hammering, hammering, hammering

 

I wrapped myself in blankets, changing, changing

I wrapped myself unknowingly. (Etc.)

I found I did not recognize the face the mountains showed me

I found I did not recognize the name my mother called me

I wrapped myself in blankness, I wrapped myself unknowingly.

 

But Who Knows Who is really there, but who knows who is really there,

answering, answering, answering, answering?

 

You grow, drinking in the light,

a soul, shimmering and bright.

There’s no shrinking from the sight, no sinking in this holy tide, you’re alight,

You grow, drinking in the light,

a soul, shimmering and bright.

There’s no shrinking from the sight, no sinking in this holy tide, you’re alight,

you’re alive.