Monday, October 17, 2011


fingers move across the lilting silk
of green surrender in hazy hopes
i have strained so long to hear a song
of faintest remembrance etched within

washed away, i feared, in the ungodly past

i have heard concerts of a music heart
cushioned and decked in a bejewelled shawl
and have danced in the rythm of spun words
harmony of the stringed perfections

some languages are so personal, so intimate to ears
one knows it in the whispering winds
the music of my core i hear, after a lone year
drowsed in a beckoning saddened saga

do i not know now, what the mirrors are
what the crowns and ascension mean to him
how masks become faces and tear the flesh within
how tears fear to wet the soft eyes that drank a soul

yet, the night blossoms well, bloom in a hundred years
the petals of nocturnal diamonds casts a magic spell
a shadow of seven tales stands before me, a silence is born.
remembrance and love, an existence forlorn

the country flute sings the song encrypted in the air
fingers reach out again, to reconnect somewhere

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