Resisting the call to adventure

Standing in the dark,

You’ll never know if it’s

The familiarity of the shadows

Or the fear of the light

That drives.

Standing on the outside

You’ll never know

If it’s the comfort of

Loneliness

Or the strangeness

of acceptance

that compels you.

Standing on the edge

You’ll never know

If it’s the desire to drown

Or the need to swim

That saves you.

Again and again you’ll

Be called.

To allow success or

To fight to lose

So will you accept

Or reject

The call to adventure

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Sing slow dulcimer

Sing slow dulcimer,

With your throaty voice

Tell tales of Distant lands.

Lands where the winds tousle the sands

Lands where the sunlight dances like water in the distance.

Sing slow dulcimer,

With your enchanting voice

Tell tales of nightingales

In perfumed trees

Who watch beauty stare

Disconsolately at its surroundings.

The tinkling of fountains jars

And the fragrance of roses cloys.

The boundless gardens of a king’s palace

Are now a walled cage.

Sing slow dulcimer,

With your seducing voice

Tell tales of a lover,

Born like a lily in the mire.

Unaware of its own virtue or beauty

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