Isis In the Smoke

Isis in the Smoke A hush has rested this quiet afternoons sunless wing While his thoughts hang on a trembling tip between nowhere and knowing And the flowers in his garden drip diamond drops of rain The cool wet darken colours suffuse the window pane As from his frozen fingers smoking drifts The quietude is humming mute words that breathing softly gives A curling pathway carrying so many memories To the vacant love inside his eyes sent to another moments kiss While the tapping rhythm of the sky dusts day to fallen dusk These mysteries of living have perceived some other or another gentle task The ghost of a soft bewitching smile calls once more to his heart And his dreams are born by a sighing only her touching could impart As a thundering roll echoes to lightning skies when the silence broke Through the wafting layers and spiralling vines of blue grey drifting smoke He espies the passages and the fields where only the lonely talk Calling him once again to the place and time where only Angels walk The room has slipped from dim to sheltered dark While his breath in a cloud forms a ghostly unspoken remark He raises the glowing ember to remind him of the time To when all his love had a language in the vision in her body and her mind No voice has uttered through the day the name that lay burning in his throat From the dark and from all the stars fashioned a velvet shaded cloak Which he swept about her naked shoulders in a universal flight But from his dreams her pale form danced throughout the suffusing night In the warmth of her arms he raised his soul and to her breast he lay the word Her hair became his shadow his eyes became her smile and their name was once more heard In a proclamation of a silence where lovers sometime walk And so entwined they where carried to the time and place where only Angels talk As suns wing lightens upon the shaft of a burgeoning morning He swore by all that is sacred and by all his love he heard a distant laughing And a garden filled with the green of flowers ignites his waking eye Isis languished in the dazzled window pane with a smile he could not deny As a thundering roll brings lightning skies to where the silence broke Through the wafting layers and spiraling vines of blue grey drifting smoke He espies the passages and the fields where only the lonely walk Calling him once again to the place and time where only Angels talk