Meet Me In Westernmost

In Westernmost the trees grow tall

Above the roads as white as bone.

The winds that blow there smell of all

Lost lands that winds away have blown.

And there’s a table laid for me

With bread and cheese and sweetest wine.

And that’s a place where I’ll be free

To be with you and call you mine.

I’ll meet you there, though roads be long,

And paths alone, and ways be lost,

Just follow when you hear this song

In Westernmost.

In Westernmost the storms may blow,

The rain may fall, the sun may burn,

When I get there I’ll let you know.

But if they do at least they’ve learned

That there’s a climate meant for me

With nights as long as seven days

With moon so bright that you can see

The ways before you anyways.

I’ll wait you there and learn to trust

That you can find your way alone:

Your path leads there as all paths must

That lead you home,

To Westernmost.

In Westernmost they still have stars

They hang but inches overhead.

They catch them in a mason jar

Upon a table by the bed.

And there are drinks by firelight.

The very water tastes like wine.

And there is shelter long as night

May last, and it lasts for all time.

So lay your boots outside the door,
Your clothes upon the hearth to dry.

And in my arms forevermore

Come home to lie

In Westernmost.