The voices of the forest sing your name
just a melody upon the breeze
inside this stream of consciousness, it guides
to navigate the path from whence you came,
through time and space to place where you begin.
Your story whispers soft among the trees,
where oldest of the old are long since gone;
yet life renews as well as it rescinds
to flow again from roots to tips of leaves.
This ancient woodland biding out its days
was born from stardust scattered at first dawn;
a paradox that kens through cosmic core...
an ancient entity that lives and breathes
yet knows no stillness, bears no word for pond—
rewrites your name instead to 'River Song.'
© Ginny Brannan 2013