Stillness speaks in words
I seldom hear
candles burn – scented yesterday.
The sweetest night was past
from places dear
another time – a place I might have stayed.
But silence knows the song
I sing –
barefoot in the dark,
waltzing past the moon while others doze –
closer to forever than the stars.
Was once confessed but met
with disbelief;
we’ve forgotten what it means to dream.
Caught in papers – there the evening news;
everything (and nothing) as it seems.
But I’ve discovered
hope in discontent,
moments found me lucid (eyelids closed).
Simple prayers I never spoke aloud
are whispered soft –
communion, no one knows.
From silver wings
that flicker on the lawn
past the purple glow of Al Jabba,
I’ve met ten thousand more
that have no names –
history betrayed their moment’s mark.
But for the dreamer,
once had walked alone
another shining moment we forgot –
caught in memory
and written there
time may have forsaken,
but we have not.
Between the ticks of ten and two,
all I am is come for me.
Twilight pulls the mortal world to bed,
and I pretend to let
the veil of slumber fall around
were only I so willing to
be led.
Would pass between the shadows
cast by misery and want
would rest and wake tomorrow —
nothing strange.
Complacency is petals wept
before the blackest swan;
hands are stopped –
eternity is changed.
And there, across the table
a familiar face,
eyes are met with knowledge
of the truth.
Presence finds assurance
in the noonday sun –
coincidence, a world denied the proof.
A fleeting smile, a knowing laugh,
secrets shared by strangers
candles burn – scented yesterday.
The sweetest night was past
from places dear
another time – a place I might have stayed.
Silence knows the song
I sing
barefoot in the dark,
waltzing past the moon while others doze,
closer to forever than the stars.
Closer to forever
than the stars.
. . .
tornadoday 