The time of splendor

　
1

From where she stood,
the shimmering bank appeared
a green-gold plane;
laughter’s dreamsong.
Hedging the distance in her mind,
she longed to lay upon rustling grasses.
Sequestered by the reeling torrents,
her heart ached.

From within watery movements,
beckoned the river nymph -
whispering, I will deliver thee hence.
She shied her doubts
and entered the swirling flow,
grasped the laughing midge’s
gray-green hair surrendering.
Feeling the gentle currents sway,
into the deep she dove.

Deeper than deep
it seemed - into another world;
there she met the keeper of tides.
His hand an offering of friendship and faith;
a smile belying the hidden intent.
Beyond him lay shadows twisted
by the river flora,
writhing tongues to snag her
in a refractive dance.

Dragged into a deeper place
the flux tugging at her feet;
into a desperate breach.
Abandoned to energies unforseen-
adrift in the darkest night
she’d ever known.
　
2

Out of the warm ground he dreamed her -
heard her murmur in the susurrating leaves;
smelled her in the fragrant jasmine;
felt her ever-changing motions
in the river’s swirling spume.
He stretched out to embrace her raiment;
fell face forward into the shining grass.

He saw how light pressed
gilded kisses upon the blades -
how they yielded to its weightless touch;
the green rebounding into his retina.
Beyond density of rooftops and trees,
he inferred the backs of things
and contemplated profiles;
not seeing or feeling the frozen other,
the side which did not smile back
through the distorted lens.
A vibrancy tucked away
to surprise the finder.

The premise on which he stood
was not crusted and heavy
but soft as ploughed earth
awaiting his seed;
etched by rivulets of yearning.
All richness bloomed before his awe.
Wisdom’s plumes rippled in the breeze.
Discontent ripped from his garden
and acquiescence planted
in the vacant lot; it grew into a canopy
bestowing grace upon his head.

Finally all things became a metaphor
for the love springing from him.
Life’s sorrows were love’s sorrows.
Life’s joys - love’s joys.
The fire that burned away
night’s deepest passions
kindled the pendulous hope
that swayed his universe -
as the dream unfolded.
　
3

The two souls circled,
looking for the center of all things;
and they never saw each other
through the swirling foam -
reaching toward an unsuspected truth.
Almost touching the other’s fingers;
but never more than a dream
drifting upon a cryptic desire.

Years passed through days
as she thrashed within her story,
passing by the bright times
and the dim with less than
a second’s pause. The river
pulled her until the green grass faded.
Winter’s struggles lay ahead
and she wept for
what was left behind.

He stood upon the bank
and felt something slip away.
Her nearness evaporated
leaving a chance not taken
rustling in a beggar’s wind.
　
　
© 2001 Melissa Songer