Sometimes I’m high sometimes low
As my heart sings joy or my heart mourns woe.
Close but far away
Clear but obscure
At this very spot, in this same place,
A man has stood from another race.
My love, I’m setting out
This very day’s my day
Old old black branches, against the
softening sky
A flower stretching to the sun
Pick a path through quiet places
If you want to fly your way
Then that’s O.K.
Gladring was a knight of whom it’s told
that man and maids found fairest to behold
I am a name in a world of many names
I work and fill my stomach and quench my thirst
If I were a poet I’d write a thousand words a day
And you’d be glad to read all that I have had to say.
