Tuesday, January 1, 2013

New Troy

I saw Helen walking.

Encapsulated simple bliss -
a stride, a smile,
an eastward prayer –
where multitudes of undulating
poetry of wars, pictures and peace
pass her by unnoticed.

I heard Helen singing.

Made still a beaten restless heart –
a trill, a thrill,
a sorrowful song –
where birds are called to silence
in a sweet harmonic hymnal –
where nocturnes lay me down.

The dawn breaks by day
and we shame the sun for rising,
the waves upon the rocks like blankets -
sand between our toes.

Somewhere in a dream I watch
a tapestry, unwitting sown -
I hear, I see, I know
that Helen walks and sings alone.

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