Homecoming: A Return
           A Song Of The Rymcae (Plains Elwens)
As I walk, the song rises to my ears,
The last snatch of a tune one faintly hears
On the retreating edges of dreams.
And I hear the song, the song of my heart,
That of flesh and bone seems a part.
A million years ago, it seems,
Since first from my home I did depart.

I stand on the last hill, and my eyes
Go to the east and the swift sunrise.
Then into a placid cool
Silence with suddenness they fall.
To me comes an internal call.
Silence and song mingle like shore and pool,
And then die; the song is all.

Gilded grass waves, gilded further by the sun,
Where the wind and the hidden things run.
I see it through a crystal maze of tears.
But I can thread my way back to the Realm of Twin Golds,
Through this translucent prison that my spirit holds,
Washing it clean of the despoilment of years
Spent outside the Realm of Twin Golds.

I know now that of which I was bereft.
The wanderer finds what he seeks in the place he has left.
My heart can its restless beating cease.
I am back in the realm where I know every stone,
The realm bred into my blood and bone.
The wind now speaks words of peace
Where it long whispered of cold paths lone.

I know where grow the shyest flowers,
And where the wind goes in wandering hours.
I have heard the maidenly laughter of spring,
The deep chortle of maturing summer,
The solemn tap of approaching fall's drummer,
And the icy music winter's clarion bells ring,
When the indigo snows challenge any comer.

I have seen, I have heard, I have felt, and I know!
From the length of the grass to the depth of the snow.
My heart can stop tormenting me.
My needless longing to roam
Has dissipated beneath the dawn sky's dome.
I am again where I was meant to be.
The song is incomparably sweet: Welcome home.