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| Open Poetry #44 |
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Rex Member
since 2000-06-29
Posts 482Houston, Texas 
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Why do you come back to me in dreams? Isn't it enough that I should build what new structures I may and house myself in some chosen solitude where ghosts may not intrude nor memories remain? Why do you come in the restful night to take my hand and lead me into byways that once I knew,and bring back in your returning, the phantoms of those infinite things that I have loved? Before the echo of your last footfall ceased to sound, I knew that with your departure had gone,too,the essence of emotions that were part of me. Time found it best that you should cast them,one by one to the restless,unreturning winds;nor could I call back into pulsing life,so much as one. The love of beauty; of rampant color,and the ebonies of enshrouding night. Of deathless poems long sung,or birthless ones sealed close within a helpless heart;and the stirring of music that calls from slumber some deep unknown desire. Ambition, and the companionship of sharing that makes sorrow bearable, and understanding a benediction. The easement of solitude,the light enjoyments of living,and the eager spontaneity of laughter. Appreciation,and the serenity of green hills straying to meet a distant sky. The sweet triviality of a tiny flower offering its perfection to those who will, and Hope,and even Prayer. Why do you come to me now,in shadowy insubstance,and lay them once more as shades in empty hands? And why,in departing, touch my cheek in tenderness until the dearness of that lost caress awakens me,and I must go forth again? Is it not enough that you have chosen? One should not disturb the dreamless dead. /b> a |
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