I am gasping-smiling-pining, waiting for the ships
Even if I can create the magic at my fingertips
Yes, there were marriage vows made at the onset
How can I, then, be blamed for thinking it never gets better as it gets!
Yet, pain doesn’t daunt the journeyperson at the makeshift picnics amid the illness
The flower of treasure in abstractions feels like the worthiest promise
I am silent and unquiet like a wind over a mountain-source brook
It fills me with amazement at you; look what we gave and took!
Your minerals fill my veins like a flow of crystal honey
And despite the clouds of scepticism, I just as well may think it’s sunny
I am on a slow river making its way towards beginnings and ends
expecting the Universe to open out and that space, time and light bend(s)!
There is gravity; even my eyes fall out of my face with hope
I am filled with much joy, still, that we are invisibly tied together by destiny’s rope!
I have made my vows in a Paradise, in each of solitude’s sun-setting bight
Like an aging lover who only wishes for eternity’s requite
And I can tell you that we are not coloured white
Purity is lucid, and `white’ (Alba) is not the colour of sunlight
I am not going to oath that destiny may just as well might
make all those treacherous ones take the flight into eternal blight!
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