North Wind, Mark the Door
The pale moon hangs above the
pines No bird breaks through the
frozen air
Old wood remembers every name And
yours is waiting there
Oak marks cut the silver field
One by one,
then disappear
Your breath folds into the dark
Something answers from the firs
Black water under sheets of ice
Red thread tied around the gate
You said you never feared the
north Now the north has learned
your face
Hold your tongue,
keep your eyes low
Hear that rhythm under stone
Every step beneath the snow
Brings the buried closer home
North wind, call my name Cold
blood, feed the flame Drums pound
beneath the ground No way out
when the night comes down
North wind,
mark the door One sign,
nothing more Stand still,
let the silence grow The old
dark knows where you
will go
Pine smoke clings to wool and
skin A dull blade rests beside
the bowl
Grandmother carved those crooked lines To
keep the hungry spirits whole
Far ridge bends beneath the storm
Fiddle cries with a broken string
I hear your voice across the
lake But you are not the
one who sings
Hold your tongue,
keep your eyes low
Hear that rhythm under stone
Every step beneath the snow
Brings the buried closer home
North wind,
call my name Cold blood,
feed the flame Drums pound beneath
the ground No way out when
the night comes down
North wind, mark the door One
sign,
nothing more Stand still,
let the silence grow The old
dark knows where you
will go
No sun reaches this valley
No prayer crosses the ridge If
you came looking for mercy
You should have turned at the
bridge
North wind, call my name Cold
blood, feed the flame Drums pound
beneath the ground No way out
when the night comes down
North wind, mark the door One
sign, nothing more Stand still,
let the silence grow The old
dark knows where you will go
Snow seals the path behind you
The pines lean in and listen
Under the ice,
the old pulse waits Until the
next one is missing