Forest paths and along rocky shelves
a mountainous terrain, underfoot but simple steps
peered crevices, lofty scapes, downtrodden things
the messages of space and time not yet forlorn
though stark sublimity; more nimble avenues
than sheep dare, a windborn precipice of seeming
whence daunted by the sight, thence humbly still.

Some tracks, in pace of venture, seeing or finding
cry out themselves, as if the rocks would speak
and the wind whisper; there's something here
more than meets the eye, as shadows dance
trees bend and raise, waving branches
the leaves clapping their hands-
one last breath before the plunge
while very Earth is heaving.

Stranger than me, or too much alike
some wrangle upon toilet papers
plastic cups out of place or lost time;
peering past, another wanders on.

Tinkling wires and rainbow faces
hearing, seeing, perchance aurific speaking
the namer among ten-thousand petty things
or squinting upon the verge of time, espy a sequal.

Step by step to round the universe
or being fell-swept away in cubboards
seem or act unseemly, like or dislike
played to the order in the round, circling about.

Why so familiar these drabbed tones of ant trumpets
or wineskins grown old to leak and sputter?
Tis the wish and will, holding like ****** to the ropes
great gales n frothing nothingnes storming on.

But We, blown upon the Aether of the Soul
a great conquest of rousing dignities;
here, under nooks, behind secret doors
or bounding past, lightning speed, relay some wonder.

Shock of waking, or dulcet tones in the Alarm of life
our shadows twist, there on the lintel of private hours
our care, held through the Night kinder endearments
then danced over reeling waves for sweet inspection.

Here unalone a look, a voice and laughter ring the ears
a crying out, or trebled inward sigh, too close to trembling-
Who is this Sojourn Friend?

Perhaps our best of self combined
no more allied to faithless days nor dark an empty smiles-
strange wastes some carelessness invents to wrack the hours.

But We, no stranger to the Sojourner's faith, Are One.

What reasons could there be?
For sure, none just that you should be alone!
So bright struck from your eyes, like stars
The rays of hope when first I saw you
That I said the day was dark for me
If I had failed once to look upon your face.
So now I peer the while, expectant for you
As the earth turns toward the sun for morning light
Revolving in my mind your form and features-
How they draw from me lively anticipations of your caress.
Alone?
If you’re alone, it’s not for want of charm or beauty
But that Man’s grown dim of sight and hard of heart
Not to be moved, as was I, by one marveled glance of you;
For once enough it was for me to look into your brimming eyes
And swoon with ambrosial thoughts that you might grant me favor-
So fitly joining each, as one
Enraptured with our prime humanity!
Smile then, for I am wont to play the courtly fool for you
And entertain a simple dance of meaning.
Yet one thing, it is no jest-
If your heart’s as fair as your form implies
More I’d serve respect and high regard
Far better than this playful verse I now employ;
For this, I’d broach with awe
And if you dare my innocent and eager wiles to try
Up-springing I will throw a thousand garlands round you
Whispering sweet admirations of the soul
That you, for this and laughter, then must say and true confess-
I am not alone, far be it hence!