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Poem

In the bounded citadel of slumbering souls,
Where the search is mute and the waiting - an unwritten world,
Wrestling roots of unplanned love twist and coil,
Bursting wild in the field where reason holds no visa.
While thought slumbers under a vault of silver, unasking,
Restless hearts, unsummoned, play in the meadow of time,
Men and women, without haste, never stalking the measure of moments,
Meet like two stars, in a galaxy of feverish, secret feelings.
Among the waves of time that break their crests in silence,
Therein, suddenly, two spirits find themselves in an enchanted dance.
They do not seek, they do not hope, they do not anticipate - what will be, will be - a delight
That sprouts discreetly, in the calm, as the day wraps itself in the discreet twilight.
Thus is born love - a king and queen of happenstance,
In a realm slightly hidden from the malevolent decrees of the world,
Where cauldrons of longing are overturned, without witnesses, without companionship,
And in the chests conceal butterflies of flames, in hearts brimming with divine dreams.
This love shatters legions of conceived walls,
Like vapors raising the prisons of logic to the heavens, all.
It comes placidly, on waters of smoke, into well-watched souls,
And settles gently, never overgrown by its fate, far-reaching.
Through it, the purest of affections are revealed, without calling,
In a world where the mind lays down, in a starry night gown,
Allowing the heart to follow its course - queen over its own realm of dreams -
Special and mysterious, unexpected and unanticipated love, but never forgotten.

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