...for She has become Wind
in the blue mist, mountain clouds move, coloured fumes;
they wave to you, Winds' soft messengers;
I see her,
a wayward angel's April Dance
her colours glow, then fly from Sight -
(a waltz too terrible to bear)
...Muse... you know within she Muses you,
each Moment you shine Life into the eyes which ask
your love; her every memory nestled in your Heart,
she Gifted you, your Life with mortal loves.
the Mountains' drowsy afternoon arms
wake aLive, to hold her
kiss her, smooth her aching thoughts of loss;
her seared brain has seen enough;
(here inside the silent breeze...
Hear the silent breeze?)
Now you understand the reason Rain drips softly sometimes?
Now we see each others' Hearts as friends know how to hug us sometimes
-when not another person knows your Soul or cares to,
dares to answer when the phone rings and you're driving home-
but "don't talk while you're driving - I don't want you to have an accident"...
now we see...
now I begin to understand, Friend.
she holds open her arms
in you step
early Morn kisses your tears.
in you step there you go
into a blue mist
a new Morning when she speaks your name over and over
Alive in you always