Pilgrim's morning song

Morning mists, Lila,

Wrap in your turret.

Should I not be able to see it

one last time!

Ah, but thousand images

of happy times

are floating in my memory

and warm my heart.

Like when he stood there,

witness to my pleasure,

when right from the beginning

you met

the timid me

with friendliness

and all of a sudden

threw into the soul

eternal flames!

Sizzle, Northwind,

with a thousand tongues

all around my head!

It won't bow to you!

You may bow,

immature twigs,

bereft of mother sun's

shelter.

All encompassing love!

Glowing through me;

You confront dangers head on,

shy away from no fight;

you have poured

into my prematurely tired heart

a renewed will to live:

joy in life

and confidence!