Monday 28 March 2016


DREAM II


My untamed wanderer's spirit
could not comprehend 
the hidden language of your
Angel's heart, sister.
Yet, my seeking eyes read your
own, each one by turn 
beaming a different light
as twin Moons,
their paths and phases ever
in defiant discord,
calling forth divergent tides
to the secret shores
of your thoughts, mingling into
an ominous rhythm
that trammelled your sky's blue
with stifling echoes
of peril and perdition,
that cast you, torn and bleeding, 
upon softest ivory sands.
Phrases hovered upon your lips
as Spring's swallowtails,
stopping upon your tongue as 
notes frozen in unyielding Silence.
And I, who worship each spirant
as a Universe,
threading sound and import
onto an endless strand of rapture,
assayed in vain to construe
your muteness.
In dreams, the Silence of your circle
floods my veins. 
Light and darkness alike are
our prison house, sister.
I would know which one is 
the greater Gift.

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image: DUES NENES
Source: commons.wikimedia.org
Artist: Joan Brull i Vinyoles

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