Song of a White Hare

I search far and wide for you in forests full of falling leaves

Through meadows wet with dew underneath a sky that grieves

You think you see me running through the misty air, but then you find it’s just a lie

The fog shelters nothing but the tracks of a white hare, so you turn away and sigh

But don’t you ever notice how my shape shifts?

Do you never wonder why it is I always come, bearing strange gifts?

Songs spun out of air, apples made of gold

Dreams beyond compare and all the lives that you can hold

I want to make your eyes turn blue, so I will tell you many tales

I’ll make them dance for you and tear away their misty veils

Now send your dogs after me, and I will chase them through the fields

It’s unclear who the hunter will be, and who the one that yields

By Eva Weggelaar