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...