Lost and gone

He spies the tear

that falls unbidden.
Not quite hidden from
discerning eyes.

When one hears
what isn’t said
And silence screams
to rouse the dead.

They speak of time
of lost and gone.
Their whispers soft–
Come Love, Anon!

She writes because
she cannot speak.
He sings because
he cannot talk.
He rages because
he has lost his tears.
She screams because
she is deaf to her own heart.

He gives what
he cannot accept.
She takes what
she cannot give.
His dream weaves above
and releases her…for love.

He weeps now
his tears are found.
Bouncing forlorn
over tundra ground.
Her words she wrote
speak volumes it seems;
He still sings of Her,
and his broken dream.

When the banshsee wails
and the cry of the Dream
wakes you from your
desperate slumber.

In the deep, still water
find your path of stars.
The bewitching reflections
throw wide the door to
your mirrored desires.

In the cold, in the
calling
Under the sweet mist
dawning
The moss creaks
the morning speaks

Take her.
Break her.
Bring her home.

*Aug 3, 2002*

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