Stay on my shore, and don’t desert me And if you go, the wind will blow you back to me And if your boat is broken out on the rocks It wasn’t anger but in longing We feed the birds, syrup and seed So they stay near, so we can see Flashing red and blue beneath the green When the fruit has long since rotten Gold in the needles and red dark skin Needed all to be empty Wrapped in leaves, would end clinging In these, so holy You’ve split the cord With Cedar and Holly In light, indoors Let the smoke do the cleaning And sweeten our skin with the salt and a stone There’s the pages of our story