In a dreamy field with dark blue irises,
Her lips are like falling, red butterfly wings.
In his blue eyes, she sees that hope rises.
O'er the life bridge, sometimes, the bell of death swings.
In the flower-filled wind, so high is his thought
As near is his feeling to the heart of love.
Flapping skywards, the dark spirits come to naught.
So sunny the sky, here flies the white dove.
With his long black hair and his beautiful chest,
He is a Polish king in their wedding bed.
His ringed hand swings the paradise of her breast.
From there, so far is the rising moon and so red.
Their thoughts into the vast infinity slip,
Into the flowers' seeds; untouched sutured wounds
In forgotten memories flutter and clip.
Prayers from afar do flow to the lips' sounds.
She wakes up in the field; the irises have grown.
Her vibrating horizon is forsaken-
A love so near that her heart has never known.
Knows now who she has, from her dream, awakened.
Poem by Marieta Maglas
