L Ia Ains Cy Rinn a Elle (Part Six)

From my pocket I draw forth my friend The best of me I have held her inside this moistened leaf of lily Since the day I set down booted feet across these desert sands One lifetime ago I cried a single tear and herein I placed As it lay dying on the shore of years gone by Across the breadth of this leaf Across the width of this leaf To breathe it back To breathe it back and liven it too That I might, That I would, That I have Held my friend the best of me in this leaf Who breathes Who lives Who waits Has waited for me Though the expanse of blistering sands yawned before me All around me for years and . . . twice in life a time lost was I amidst these dunes I can feel it whispering silently With its cool tepid breath brushing lightly across my back My neck with feather light kisses Creeping over the tips of my short cut hair Comes the memory I am afraid to see Still I turn and I look I do, I do . . . I cup my hands before in the shade of me And I sigh a soft whispering of breath Across her sleeping body to wake her gently So in the dying moonlight She wakes With a fluttering of eyelashes We meet once more again The best of me My friend And I smile a quiet sort of smile That echoes the murmur of day Across her skin glimmering inside the shade “L’ia Ains cy’rinn a’elle . . .” breathe I