Rumour Born

There is a rumour born
in the cold mist of morning
and then beneath the sun
hides in an echo

And what this rumour is
whispers in windblown sands
Swept through tree tops
in a sweeping gale

And the sea remembers
washing the rumour clean
to spread across the wild
on the rising dust

And the rumour lives
in hunters of the heart
caught in a lover's web
on a cold hearth

And the stars wheel on
in a spangled sky
and the rumour born
counts out time

And the rumour spreads
through grasses high
and where rivers run
wings are spread

There is a rumour born
and wisdom hides
And is truth the reason
for a rumour's final death