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Ritual Dance

de Michael Hedges

The woman of the world turns slowly
Days are drawn—seasons start to change
She finds that natural boundary
Her eyes change color—sounds begin to fade
I slowly turn away…
from the woman of the world

The woman of the world holds me
to colder courses farther out to sea
where no one really knows me
and if the anchor’s out boarders love and leave
She’s waiting on the beach…
my woman of the world

No one hears the way she whispers every changing season
Through every falling rain I listen without reason…
without reason…

’till the woman of the world shows me
the secret seed she planted in my heart
Her breath is cool to sway me
Roots shoot down
Her eyes begin to shine
My love runs leaf and vine
through the woman of the world…

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