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