Thursday, August 18, 2005

"Three A.M."

All night there was silence in the dark house,

Shadow met shadow, the clock chimed the hours;

The cat, abated from her nocturnal roust,
Lay sleeping, feet twitching as she stalked in the bowers

Of her dreams.

Quiet upon quiet where mind meets the dark,

Are remnants of the light you leave in this place;

That same light that with it brings a peace as stark

As the contrast between the moon's sultry face

And the sun's burning beams.

Three a.m. knows all my secrets,

Where Shadow meets shadow and Dark meets the mind;

Where day blends with memory and shows it's regrets,

While your essence brightens and stealthily finds

Firm pinnings in my soul.

To know you as friend brings contentment and peace,

To my troubled, tempestuous, darkening heart;

With sadness and sweetness your life will not cease

Ever to reveal your softness, your art

To lay bare the truth.

Darkness and light, sweet tragedy and pain,

Are mixed in the cauldron of all that you are;

The fire beneath you refines time and again,

Setting you in the heavens as a white, shining star,

Whose radiance casts shadows.

You fill all my rooms with a brightness and love

Like an ephemeral nova whose beauty so rare;

Fleets while it's warmth still lingers above,

As I reach to grasp what I hope might be there,

When I wake in the morning.

And now with the house so quiet, so still,

I sit in the Dark with the muse of your soul,
Bidding me trust and follow my will,

Until such a time when your heart is whole,

And your light seeks it's own place.

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