she walked through his dream
  and played the violin
   he sat shyly on the corner
    of her bed and listened
   to the rhythm of music
  that pulsed from the strings
he knew it was only a dream
  as she sat down next to him
    and smiled her gentle smile

they would never met
  in the waking world
they would always be strangers
  in different places
   at different times

yet somehow she would
  always be with him
    a small piece of
      golden thread
    stitched into the fabric
      of his soul

she whispered something
  of poetry to him
   and pointed to
    the clock on the wall
     of her room
    the second hand marched
   in its circle
  and the minute
stepped into place
while the hour stood still

he looked at her
  with a hint of sadness
   in the corner of his eye
knowing he would wake soon
  knowing he did not know
   when she would be here again

he went to speak to her
  but before his lips could move
    he woke up
      in his dark room
     alone in his bed
   his eyes still lazy
  stumbled around
  hoping to catch
one last glimpse of her

there was nothing there
  but the silence of morning
   his eyes closed again
    as he sat up
   and moved to the corner
  of his bed

he sat still for a moment
  knowing the hour
   was in no rush
    and he listened
   to the quite of the morning

and he smiled his worn
  but happy smile
    and from within his chest
  he could hear
  her violin playing
the harmony of her heart

I am lucky enough
  to be able to
    sit here today
   and write down
     that I've watched
    more than fifty years go by
        in what has mostly
          been a blur  
and in that time
I have laughed
   and I have danced
    and I have loved
   and been loved
    and I have cried...
I have really, really cried...
and painfully and truthfully
I must admit that
   I honestly don't know
    how I survived
  the nights that I cried
   until there was
    nothing left of me
that there was only
  the heavy
    and the hollow
     in my chest
  that continued to cry...
there were tears
  and snot
   and heaving
but I was gone...
no longer really there
but somehow
I made it through
I came back somehow
I woke up the next day...
and today I am grateful
  beyond words
   to still be here today
I know with fifty
plus years gone
  there will soon
    be a tomorrow
     that I will not see
and that it will
  come in a flash
but that does not trouble me
  as I have said before
Death will make lier's
  of us all in the end
we all must one day walk
  into the shadows
   of the unknown
but I know in the time
  I've seen pass
my heart has been
  blessed and filled
   with the light of love
and I know in whatever time
  I have left
   that light
    will not dim
    but grow brighter
and when the shadows come
  how lucky I will be
   to have such
    a beautiful life
  to say goodbye to...

The hangman's noose
  dances in the wind
and the blood of the past
  is printed below
   the white washed pages
     of our history books
Hatred repeats itself
  as it bares it's rotted
    yellow teeth
and spills it putrid
  green bile
     and shouts
   it's hollow anger
Any chance of sensibility
  or kindness corrode
    on the branches
      of the family tree
as poison is passed down
    in the blood
     festering in the heart
      generation after generation
Nothing changes as the history
  of hatred is stuck on repeat
and the burden of hope
  grows heavier still
but we must carry on
  for without hope
    love cannot survive
and without love
  there is no hope
    at all

I couldn't love you anymore
  than I already do
and it's killing me
  but what a lovely way
    what a lovely way
      to go
to die like this
  to have lived a life
where in the end
   it was love
     that murdered me
to know as I took
  my final breath
   that the thing
     making my heart
       beat inside of me
would escape
  the graveyard
    of my chest
and live among the stars
  where eternity dances
    with the love
      that was killing me
  and what a lovely way
     what a lovely way
        to go

There is something haunting
  in the leaves
in the colors of autumn
  and in the birth of spring
a ghost of longing
  floating in the warmth
    and comfort of a breeze

love felt but never spoken
  
how I trembled
  just to be near
   how I tremble
    now to remember
what might have been
  such a foolish dream
and the monster still sleeps
  
     still sleeps

      still dreams

There are things
that only the heartbroken
can understand
and dear son
I hope with all my broken heart
that one day
you will understand
these things too

a pain so beautiful
that only love can see
that everything broken
everything broken
is lovely too

In time death will come
to reap the life
you have sown
and when you see
the harvest she lays
at your feet
will you rejoice to see
an abundance of fruit
or will you be forced
to see a garden
that long ago
rotted on the vine