I love to watch the fine mist of the night come on,
The windows and the stars illumined, one by one,
The rivers of dark smoke pour upward lazily,
And the moon rise and turn them silver. I shall see
The springs, the summers, and the autumns slowly pass;
And when old Winter puts his blank face to the glass,
I shall close all my shutters, pull the curtains tight,
And build me stately palaces by candlelight.

And then he went in the evening up to the nursery and told the boy how his mother was gone for a while to Elfland, to her father’s palace (which may only be told of in song). And, unheeding any words of Orion then, he held on with the brief tale that he had come to tell, and told how Elfland was gone.

“But that cannot be,” said Orion, “for I hear the horns of Elfland every day.”

“You can hear them?” Alveric said.

And the boy replied, “I hear them blowing at evening.

The sky blue strengthens slowly, the dawn light rosy and pale the summer song of our romance begin to unveil…with every heart beat and the waves’ breath…the time stood in harmony still. Your morning kiss my hands could feel…by your lips soft, so warm, so very gentle, nice and full of life…

When one tunes in into nature’s frequency, life becomes change, change becomes hope!