Mirror of Dreams


I see her now,
Stepping through the mirror of her dreams.
Dreams reflecting ancient longings.
Memories of not quite now,
Not quite what went before.

I see her now.
Waxing and waning,
Constant and in flux
The moon describing her dancing soul.

In love with birth,
In love with death,
And all that lies between.
Molding the shapes of our lives.

Writing, with a golden pen, dipped in blood,
Composes words, flowing smooth and dark,
Soaks into ivory parchment skin.

She writes in a language transcending words.
Every nuance a small spell,
Every spell a crafted cadence,
Rhythmical lines intersecting,
A life in motion,
Dancing and swaying,
To the beat of the earth,
To the music of the moon,
To the sighs of the wind,
To the song of the sea.

I see her now.
Stepping through the mirror of my dreams.
And quicksilver ripples dance as we embrace,
A pillar of pure light,
Exploding skyward where our warm bellies touch...

...as from this moment...
...as from this moment....

...nothing will be the same.