Friday, June 15, 2007

this meadow, and you (II)

Sky beyond the late-lit sky, air beyond this air,
what need have I for them, with you here?

We find ourselves lost together
By happenstance in a meadow, here -- meadow
scented with time, and camellias, where doves coo
and fireflies flicker, winking, twinkling out
their humble code of light.

Were we like them? Lost finding each other,
winding up here by happy chance
(chance that is no chance),
with birds, time, flowers,
eyes, lips, you, I, and hours,
by love so gently overpowered?

Evening falls, summer evening,
meadow where all evenings are this one evening
(and only this)
where we are young and old all at once,
where all loves are this sweet love
where all anguish falls asleep softly, softly,
meadow where I am your sky, and you, my air,
flickering flaring twinkling soaring.

What do we need beyond this --
this meadow, this summer’s eve,
these fireflies’ dance, this us?
Us that only we are; us that was air, once, sprites
without name
in that sultanate in the sky.

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