Melancholy Air

When every breath is melancholy air,
I look inside and ask my soul to sing
Some song it knows — some long forgotten thing
Remembered by the holy spirits there,

A song that somehow hid itself away
Or one that someone left there on the chance
That in its resurrection also they
Themselves might rise again to sing and dance,

And then my spirit sings — not mine alone
But also those who to my soul belong,
And time and cares are for the moment gone,
And — if I listen — I hear only song.