Divine

The river breathes beneath the bone A choir of silt and hollow stone We trace the lines where light dissolves In orbits where the soul revolves Oh, raise the veil, the tide is high Beneath the glass of a shifting sky We are the current, we are the sound Where the divine is lost, where the divine is found Harp strings hum like a moth’s soft wing In the silence where the spirits sing The bells are ringing from a sunken town Turning the heavy weight into a crown Breath of the valley, blood of the rain Wash the memory, wash the pain We are returning, we are the spark Kindling fire in the throat of the dark! Oh, raise the veil, the tide is high! Beneath the glass of a shifting sky! We are the current, we are the sound! Where the divine is lost, where the divine is found! Found... Found...