dreams are beings
incarcerated inside of sleep,
and we petition for their freedom as poets.
Close your eyes, build a beautiful world
and bring it back in handcuffs.
My hope hangs like balances in the air,
like a fettered bondsman, I am waiting
for you to set me free...
You and I had made a pact
from the beginning to be one:
You me and me you;
You in me, me in you
When I spoke a word, it was your voice that said it
When I cherished a thing, it was your desire
And when cold within, you warmed me up—my burning flame.
In trying times when my hands were feeble,
it was your strength in me that straightened my steps,
your herculean heart steadied my course,
my daring deeds were all your doing.
And truly, my lady, we were like amorous birds of prey
when we set a-flight
yet, my lady, (you say), you seek to break free
from this cage of me-self
And with the best part of me, you fly away
(and call it freedom) when I needed you most.
If it is, my lady, (as you say), then why are your broken chains my shackles?
My hope hangs like balances in the air, a fettered bondsman
I am waiting for your return to set me free...
The golden sun came out to play,
Lulled by the song of an empty day.
Casting a glow to light the dream,
She danced her rays upon the stream.
The depths that reach the silent tide,
Are born of hope from the prison inside;
To teach the bondsman how to praise,
The lovely warmth of sunlit days.
Perhaps the sun will wrap your soul,
With arms of light to make you whole;
Perhaps the sun will touch your face,
And fold you in her warm embrace.
Dance the path of silent sound,
And heal the wound that can’t be found;
For the sun can touch and the sun can heal,
All the sorrow that seems so real.
The hands tick around,one by one
tedium ends with the setting sun.