I will take you to the ruins of Oldtown
Atop that forest-capped mountain
Where stone set roots to earth
Where women once sang magic into air
And turned leaves into birds and shed tears into wine.
I will take you there on my own two feathered wings
Carry you like the precious cargo that you are.
I will sing you alive midflight, awaken you, clothe you, feed you
Recite you an ancient ballad about two lovers
Who searched for a way into Oldtown
Where they could be together free of judgement, of expectations
Where they could be free
Among women who sang sadness into stars and laughter into snow.
Your weight won’t bring me down
Your renewed heart won’t put me off my task
For I was born to carry you.
I will fly you there across the darkened sky
Your measured breath my compass
And from this incredible height I will show you
How the ruins of Oldtown draw together to spell a message
A spiraling code meant just for you.
Your cry of excitement after you read the words
Won’t scare me as I begin my descent
Won’t divert me from my path, from my struggle against the wind.
For I was made for this task of flight, my last fit of love and bravery
With you holding on for dear life to my fiery feathers.
For I was born to carry you home.
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