O you who glide on carpets of dead leaves
On ancient rocks scattered on forest floors
Under raining fires of a thousand suns
And mysterious moons of blackest nights;
O you white serpent of darkness and light
Slithering in the shy shadowy depths
Of tremulous trees in whispering winds
And runnels meandering through meadows;
For you, I have walked all through the forest
My feet full of the dew of cold mornings
For you, I have searched so many long years
My eyes filled with the ache of lost sunsets!
O mysterious serpent of my dreams
Reveal yourself to me this final hour
Lead me to your secret cove in the gloom
Where you sleep like a wild song in the woods.
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