we swam in stars
along the rocky shore
and looking saw
so much more
than galaxies in
an endless sky
in our eyes
we saw possibility
remember breathless
night beneath the canopy
beneath a warm embrace
our hearts raced to
be one
we fell forever
into memory
snowflakes in the wind
never back here again
and time will lift us
higher than the sky
to soar, to die, goodbye
they're all fictions
these escapes
scraped together dictions
sustain us in the night
secretly fighting
shadowland
to live just once
upon the grassy plain
to strain against the
brightest yellow sun
ah life embodied
sweep me with your
starry eye
to soar, to die, goodbye
what you are given is not the Way
but it is your mother's or father's
a church, mosque, or synagogue's
a culture and an era
who in turn received it from another
there is no "way" but the Way
the philosopher was right to say
it cannot be named
but this is inconvenient
so we grasp our little "ways"
and perish never having
known it
except in briefly flashing
moments of illumination
time will tell
a many-chaptered story
in which characters
fade in and out
flash like fiery sparks
on a dark summer night
and those with sight will
see
but me?
oh turner of pages
rememberer of tales
i grow old
with whitened hair
wrapped against the cold
snow beating hard my
thin glass illumined by
a meagre flame
twice wrapped against
a childhood shame
whispering not
divine names to
warm an aching heart
i have my own chapters
so old..
they can't be told
i will sit at the sun-blurred window
as naked branches dance in the wind
with thoughts of warmer days
(and memory of warmer ways)
the year is ending without you
here by the sun-blurred glass
alone with my many-chaptered reveries
first love of my childhood self
last thought in a gray-wreathed head
who can forget
the lights upon an
endless water
wrapped in dark and
fairy tales by the
endless grassy fields
who can forget
music on a
green hill where
children play and
secret trails run through
mossy trees
summer has turned to fall
and left us with
so many
memories
