Julie and the Sky of Dreams
Let us stop talking of the light,
and instead walk unminded in it
as we do in our shoes
and the nails of our toes,
so delicately intact.
A cigarette here and there
will not keep the blot of grey,
this white metal railing framing
this narrow patio fixed
between me and all possibilities,
Love then like the wings of a butterfly.
Though let us not speak of love,
But gaze, simply gaze, upon the fluttering,
real or not, as it floats over the cold
smooth iron. Let all be, with our heart
touching all beyond the boundaries
of the varied weather of the soul.
Though let us not even speak anymore
of that ghostly key, for forever does the
door swing open with a swish, swish, swish
With the sound of swinging silence.
This alone we should rest in our communing,
faith-filled movement.
The sound of young voices in the night,
and the soft light of indoors, now,
with faried voices leading me down
this path...
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