Close my eyes and I believe,
in shadowed lanes and subtle melodies.
This rhythm that rises from the depths of the silence, like Lazarus,
from Bethany.
Powers called on by the spoken words, like trinkets dancing,
twirling, such vanity.
Descending unbid the summer shimmers, calling,
luring the unaware world in her siren arms, enveloping.
Our fingers graze like wind-swept waves,
each locking and passing,
passing and locking,
so that at no moment is there uniformity.
But then we too,
We two like trinkets dancing, twirling,
such vanity.
Harnessing the movements,
shifting forms and congruity,
and feeling this hunger and we look higher,
to the cold pressed stars in their indifference,
intelligence.
Then a final step, a last movement,
your hair in their waning light falls back,
graceful,
and I lean close…
in shadowed lanes and subtle melodies.
This rhythm that rises from the depths of the silence, like Lazarus,
from Bethany.
Powers called on by the spoken words, like trinkets dancing,
twirling, such vanity.
Descending unbid the summer shimmers, calling,
luring the unaware world in her siren arms, enveloping.
Our fingers graze like wind-swept waves,
each locking and passing,
passing and locking,
so that at no moment is there uniformity.
But then we too,
We two like trinkets dancing, twirling,
such vanity.
Harnessing the movements,
shifting forms and congruity,
and feeling this hunger and we look higher,
to the cold pressed stars in their indifference,
intelligence.
Then a final step, a last movement,
your hair in their waning light falls back,
graceful,
and I lean close…
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