We moved in liquid grace
to a dream's pulsing rhythm,
natural as the Volga's flowing.
We moved as music moves.
It felt like a waltz so lilting!
We were woven into dance,
and my heart felt an orchestra.
You moved with color and inflection,
like hidden words in a freeing poem.
I measured notes of surreal hope,
till madness leaked into my steps.
Oh...
you moved so well. Such gliding poise,
such smiles of youth. I could not dance
like some old uncle, as if it were a trifle.
Madness leaked into my steps,
and love was felt inside that dream.
I heard Russian violins
in your flashing eyes.
I felt viola depths
in your spectral hands.
I saw into your kindly soul
and felt it as a cello.
But dancers in a dream are caught
and fade before the world of light.
I think I must have meant something,
perhaps a smile through beats of time.
I know I dreamed you as perfection.
I know I loved you on an evening.
We moved in liquid grace
to a dream's pulsing rhythm.
Now it's time to bow adieu
and thank the stars that sent you.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment