I want to hear the songs you hear
As if the music was the same
I want to feel each time you fear
As if the fear had called my name
I want to be inside your eyes
To see the darkness when they close
And when your breath is only sighs
To be the warmth that comes and goes
In a place where we found pleasure
In a past too deep to measure
When all the ancient tales were new
And all the seas were crystal blue
Long before Prometheus’ spark
Guided man from out of his dark
Caves where he crouched, cursed and hiding
From the Tyger, still abiding
In night’s forest, stalking, pacing
Dusty tracks his claws still tracing
In a valley lined with flowers
In a time unmarked by hours
Where the grasses practiced waving
Calmed by breezes, never raving
Never wilting, never dying
Sometimes shaded by the flying
Clouds of heaven all dressed in white
Cooled and warmed by day and by night
Where they poured their living showers
On the prairie’s magic flowers
There the flowers shared their stories
Wreathed in magic, ancient glories
Ancient builders, tales of power
Told by people of the flowers . . .
This is the place our souls first met
This is the time we won’t forget
This is where we were created
Sealed together, matched and mated
The poet sealed unto his muse
Never again to have to choose
But eternally to recall
As each life’s summer yields to fall
Dies in the winter, lives in spring
Memories each rebirth will bring
Of the beauties we inspired
Ashes woken, fueled and fired
Giving light and warmth to the peace
We first created to increase
Words like rain gives rivers water
Where our souls create a daughter
I twist to keep the wind
from freezing snow against my soul.
I flex my dreams and shards of ice
fly off my blue eternities.
She howls, the memory of my last winter,
so beautiful and cold,
reminding me of the strength
of her embrace
and how my frozen tears
could only flow
when she let go.
I hear the sun
sweep jagged clouds
outside my door
where soon will come a knock.
Come in, I’ll call,
if you are warmth.
