There was a Quail…
There was a quail, yes a quail, wounded in the wing
Looking up in wonder at the Hunter and the Sky
There was a quail, yes a quail, forgetting how to sing
His flame bleeding back into the shadow of a sigh
There was a man, yes a man, wounded in the wing
Half in life, half in death, having lost the power to sing
Looking up in wonder at the Hunter and the Sky
Learning how to live, learning how to die
They came from the forest, they came from the hill
The birds gathered round to hear the wisdom of the Song
They leaned closer to his lips, but his lips were chill
And the Sky was deep, and the River long
He moved his lips, yes his lips, tried to murmur Song
But the Sky was deep, and the River long
Some say he murmured the Hunter is My Brother
Some say he murmured the Hunter is The Other
Some say they heard nothing, nothing at all
Some say they saw a tear, one tear
On a feather neath his eye
Some say this was a sign
That he would live—that he would die
Some say The Oracle remains alive today
Some say The Oracle has nothing left to say
Some say the quail is still wounded in the wing
Some say the quail will rise one day and sing