Wing’s bright song staid forest realm
Shrill, dripped notes from soft breeze staff
Commandeered ear’s thirsting helm
Had raised my sight to branches, aft
Sweet ribbon air, thus quivered joy
To penetrate ‘ere sonnance ran
Imbibed each drop creature employed
Where sun’s shy rays dared not fan
My eyes run by beauty’s reason
For reverie, embrace this wild
Among mute trees placid season
I stand alone, an entranced child
Through glades, new dressed in morning’s sash
Invades his song to heart defiled
No more to burn the rebel ash
Such uncaged heart bowed to his, mild
WILDsound Festival 