View from Above

The gloom of night is tangled in the turbines' hum,
And stars begin their voyage, sailing free…
The clouds, on their grey backs, now bear the numb
And weary aircraft of my soul with me.

The minutes fly—or years, or centuries—
I drift, a shadow, between earth and sky.
From all Eternity, my unseen net now sees
The moments spent with you that it can spy.

In some forgotten dream—so chaste and quiet—
A night-violet, love hides itself from sight.
Yet, overwhelming and with steadfast riot,
It squeezes my heart, foaming blood with its might.

Oh, thought of mine! So luminous and light of wing—
Fly to the realm of dreams that burned to embers!
With radiance of a star yet to begin its ring,
Fill all the shades of words no one remembers!

The hoary morning will arrive, unbid,
And stroke my brow with palms of sunlit rays,
Observing, with a joy most strange, amid
The coiling shapes of nights that slip away.

The blue will burst in through the silver door,
The dreams return—so parched and cool and deep…
My cracked and broken heart will bleed once more,
And burning verses from the wound will seep.

December 15, 1999