Whisperings

There’s a song that wafts so gently
in music faintly heard,
a song with words so fleeting
I cannot hold them still.

Where many paths are meeting
in the tangle of the shadows,
just beyond your glance,
in the patterns of the dance,
from a farewell to a greeting
they will spin you into trance.

In a fluttering of wings, do you hear them speaking?
”No time today for sorrow, no time for needless weeping.
Mortal though you are, follow your own star”

I sense them in a twinkle,
in a gleam, a flash of star-fire
the silver light behind a cloud,
across the moonlight sweeping
in the rhythm of my breathing
and a heart that’s wildly leaping,
to the strings of their desire

”It’s a dream within a dream within a dream”
i hear them whisper
as i rest,
almost sleeping,
almost waking,
only seeming to be here.

The Masquerade

 

she is dressed like an angel
she is so perfect
he thinks
she may sprout wings
flying away in a moment

a heart is embroidered on the cuff
of his well-worn sleeve
it’s enough that she sees it
examines the finely made stitches
and smiles

he sees her eyes
clear, gentle, kind
as she flutters her swan feathered fan
across her lovely face,
a beating wing
allowing a glimpse of her mind

he wears a masque
his eyes, not well hidden,
bewitch her, and keep her there

the music is enchanting
they dance in a dream
tentative touching
they begin to open their hearts
in this harmonious dance
all is agreement
that this trance is worth keeping
preserving, defending, completing
even for life

in the morning
the music has stopped
the masques are removed
he bows, revealing his face,
he sees all that shows
beneath her smile
she curtsies with grace
they move away slowly
one unwilling step at a time

 

 

Tomorrow – a rubaiyat

The stars of the heavens are clear and bright.
I stand here alone, looking up tonight.
The song of the nightingale fills my heart
Ecstatic soloist, brings sweet delight

A softened light shines from the crescent moon,
At dawn it lips the ocean in a swoon.
All night I watched awake, we are apart.
The treasured morning cannot come to soon.

The scent of roses fills the dawning air
As I walk out in peace without a care
Amidst this new-born darling of a day
Where all the fields are newly fresh and fair.

You bring a smile, a word, a tender glance.
Tomorrow’s here and all the world’s a dance.
The sky is blue, the clouds have cleared away
And I am dreaming in a golden trance