Our food has been uneaten,
Our wine has been untouched.
Our spirits, dry and beaten,
Our tree remains uncut.Flying from hither to thither,
Finding your paltry sum.
And our food has been uneaten,
Our wine has been untouched.

I chop away at lumber,
To free our spirit’s song.
You find a deeper slumber,
I begin work all daylong.

That egg is now quite rested,
Emerging void of yolk.
I find a quiet respite,
In the hearts of many folk.

Our food has been uneaten,
Our wine has been untouched.
Our souls ripen and sweeten,
Our spirit’s song unstuck.

I embrace your echo tightly,
Thanks be having woke me up.
Leaving you tucked in gently,
I find one to share my cup.

Β© Sayer Teller

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