A solemn summer night - when
the winds are low and restless, and
play a quaint symphony thru' the trees.
The darkness rises up into the rarer -
As the moon parts the forest
to gaze at itself in the river
that flowed silently unknown - until now.

 An eon of thoughts, laid out
in a thousand lights, as pebbles
all across the river bed
As it curls and twists its way about -
in gargles, bubbles, and bejeweled trebles.
And I arose in my dreams,
followed the night unto you,
saw the sparkles rise and touch the moon
with their silver fingers,
a rub, gently, on the wishing lamp -
and the moon molts feathers around
in a countless sky of stars.
And I followed the night unto you -
It waited as I filled up my vials,
with the stars, and the waters,
a million tiny vials with
a million tiny springs within -
Stirred and shook them up, and heard them sing,
their infinitely varied voices, their fluid honey -
to hold with me your forever springs.
I listened, and I tried, but -
I couldn't capture still
the precise quietude in your sound
the liquid mystery that flows in raptures
entwines and slowly sets into the ground -
the ground that was yesterday's thirst,
slowly permeating, and now so alive.

 

And I know, and I know to love and fear -
that this is but only the voice I can hear,
Perhaps... perhaps in some other world,
with chiseled valleys, and greenish glens,
with hazel skies, and sadness with an aroma,
where the moon's yellower with envy,
and leathery creatures tread the sea,
perhaps, in some other such world,
in some exquisitely beautiful land,
Its your inner voice which speaks,
In an immensely mellifluous language,
and that's what I wish, I could understand,
and that's the beautiful land I seek,
and that's just the world I seek.