On moonlit night I wander free,
my mind to roam on thoughts of thee.
With midnight darkness beckoning
my heart toward mystic fantasy:
Come, dream in me!
How beautiful, this night in June,
And here, upon the velvet dune;
I weep with joy beneath the moon.
The path lies dark before my sight,
And yet, my feet with pure delight
trod onward through the blackened vale
beneath the starry sky so bright.
O, share thy light!
These woods, their weary wanderer soon
in awe and fearful wonder swoon;
I weep with joy beneath the moon.
And as the darkened hours flee,
my heart beats ever rapidly.
Though heavy hang my eyes with sleep,
my singing soul, it cries to thee:
Come, sing with me!
The twinkling sky casts forth its tune—
O, must I leave thy charms so soon?
I weep with joy beneath the moon.
In stillness high above the slumbering shore
where wistful waves of foam caress the sand;
A silent watchman o’er the darkened land
adrift celestial seas of twilight soars.
She passes softly in the heavens deep—
Her silver skin aglow with radiant hue,
her eyes enchanting globes of glittering dew;
Through rays of moonlight rich with heavenly sleep.
What dreams have I that she should give them flight,
enlivened in a momentary flame—
What fears of hope unfounded could she tame
to joy, arising toward the hovering height!
O, Beaming Star, illumine heaven’s floor
until the sun should bear its light once more.
Lullaby, sing lullaby,
the day is far behind you.
The moon sits high atop the sky,
now let sweet slumber find you.
The day is done, and gone the sun
that lit the world so brightly.
The earth’s aglow with speckled show
of twinkling stars so sprightly.
Where the sunlight is beaming
through a deep, cloudless blue,
and the treetops are gleaming
with a fresh morning dew.
Where the mountains are shining
at the meadows below,
in a brilliant white lining
of a new-fallen snow.
Close you eyes, breathe in the night;
a softer bed I’ll make you.
The trial is done, all danger gone;
now let far dreaming take you.
Where the ocean is lapping
at a soft, pearly shore,
and the swaying palms napping
as their swinging fronds soar.
Now the dark night approaches,
yet so soft and so mild.
Lullaby, sing lullaby;
Sleep now, my child.
At the close of the age, when memory wanes
And the progress of time now halts its flow;
When all that once was bright ceases to glow,
Leaving only echoes of what remains:
I am the softest shadow, slightest spark;
Conscious now residing within a dream.
Nearly nothing yet everything, I gleam—
Shielding the immortal flame from the dark.
And as to fantasies from lightyears hence,
You will find my song best, and sweeter still
If open wide your dreaming eyes you will—
The dawn to come, the passage to commence.
All the bonds of darkness thus loose their hold
And await the herald of dawning gold.
A flash of wonder from eternal height,
I give anew to all the world its sight;
A blinding rush of colors all alight,
To see full well the sum of joys in flight.
Within the cloudy depths where sorrows cry,
Within the shadows where dead dreams may lie,
I stand a beacon constant and serene.
Just as the spark of hope ignites the flame,
Just as the song of love the heart may tame,
I am the firmament of truth unseen.
Though Fortune with its fickle hand may lure,
Though Time all hurts with cold revealing cure,
I linger hid beyond their reach so keen.
High in vaulted iron ceiling,
Herald of a winter nigh.
Swirling, soaring, rolling, reeling,
Sailor of the crystal sky.
Sea of pearly flake unbroken,
Bright as noon in dark midnight.
Dusted light with downy token,
Restless e’er in dream of flight.
Silence preceding the moment of morning,
Nature is napping ere dawning of day,
dim glow the stars after night sky adorning,
all Earth prepares to tuck twilight away.
Palest pink to mask the moon!
Beauty beneath its first leaf it is shaking,
lighten the long-shaded wood now awaking—
gentle the joy of new morning is breaking!
Swiftly the sky on horizon of heather,
laced with its long-fingered phalanx of gold,
shifting the shadows of deep midnight’s tether,
ocean to shape and tall mountain to mold.
Radiant red, ignite the gloom!
Fleet are the fires their high heaven consuming,
spectral resplendence its beauty is blooming—
mighty the mirth of new morning resuming!
Dewdrops have dampened the greenest of grassblades,
crystals to capture young Daybreak’s first ray,
glisten the glades which were shrouded in soft shades,
Life is alighting, its passion to play.
Brilliant beams on brightest blue!
World, now awake! this your cadence is calling,
so clear the cloak of night fast is now falling—
blinding the bliss of new morning enthralling!
Three hundred and sixty-five offenses
Three hundred and sixty-five offended
Three hundred and sixty-five questions
Three hundred and sixty-five objections
Three hundred and sixty-five inquiries
Three hundred and sixty-five appeals
Three hundred and sixty-five in favor
Three hundred and sixty-five against
Three hundred and sixty-five reproaches
Three hundred and sixty-five excuses
Three hundred and sixty-five denials
Three hundred and sixty-five tears.
No more God
forgive us for
we know not what we do...
Two souls enchained within the walls love built,
A household severed under God and hilt;
The blood of mine own hart I now have spilt.
What shall I do; indeed what have I done,
For care was cast, but vengeance there was won.
Is such the love of sire for his son?
What sin of thine, what crime within mine eyes
that first, not ninth, should from thy issue rise,
And heart's desire should be my hearth's demise?
Thy humble servant's own is the affront;
A hart so fair I'll never after hunt,
A love so keen the knife-edge cannot blunt.
It must be April Fools'... waiting for you to say,
since only April fools could fall in love this way.
You touched my funny bone, my heart alone now stutters a trick for two:
It must be April Fools', 'cause I'm a fool for you.
I may not always know what you've got up your sleeve,
but what there is to show is much more than make-believe.
No matter how tough the room, I can assume that your love is ever true:
Soft as the sunset's silver
shadow on the sea.
Still the soul.
Warm as the waning winds of
twilight wing the breeze.
Hear the heart.
Lovely as the last glow of
evening in the leaves.
Live the love.
The air is turning, stirrings of the breeze
an exhalation of a summer spent.
October Sun sighs.
Rays of daylight once rosy-cheeked with warmth
grow ever paler with the coming chill.
October Sun shivers.
The earth afire, now flares its gratitude
at life-giver in final grand display.
October Sun smiles.
Its last refrains a haunting melody
to echo fast away until the spring,
October Sun sings.
O my son,
I was helpless
as they felled him
among the tree trunks,
with wood in his own.
He lived head in the sky
and died feet off the ground.
Before I could show mercy,
Heaven has condemned his sin.
I fled and I wept over the hills;
he fought and he bleeds beneath them.
I once slew a giant with a stone
and stones now cover my Absalom.
I was helpless to prevent it.
A king, God’s hand-chosen one,
to be one breath from grief
and one death from hell.
I am helpless.
O my son.
Blue and gray;
brothers at arms,
sisters of yarns,
neighbors at odds
follow their gods,
pawns in play.
equal are bred,
all turn to red;
metal and smoke,
harness and yoke,
try we may.
free man or slave,
coward or brave,
all must pay.
Blue and gray;
red white and blue,
now torn in two,
helpless stay .
There are no souls of sacred men
immune to mean offense,
Though righteous strive, so all may fall
from Eden’s exile since.
From fear they flock, the mighty mob,
imbued with boldest hate,
The same whose loud hosanna’s throb
still rings the city’s gate.
Fanatics, addicts, slaves to lust
they circle for the kill,
While faded fronds now pave the dust
that leads to Calvary’s hill.
The human heart is apt to sin
when Gods would meddle there,
Take heed! beware the beast within,
thy sacred soul to spare.
I love who you thought you were.
I love who you now feel you are.
I love who you don't even know you'll be.
O hold my life, that I should wander
no more apart from thee.
Within a shelter stronger than the earth;
one of heart and home.
O what a home, that I should linger
in rooms alight with love.
And what a heart, my soul's desiring:
To lose myself in thee!
Sicut in principium lux vocatus est ex obscuritate,
Ita eadem lumen tenemus per tenebrae nostrae
ut denuo luceat.
(Just as in the beginning light was called out of darkness,
so we hold this same light through our darkness
that it may shine anew.)
I read the last line, and I stared
deep in the empty page below,
when in this void more letters swirled
to form one final word: “Again.”
With wordless reverence to the Muse
my brushstrokes danced in shades of light,
and in my opus newly borne
was one exuberant cry: “Again.”
I loved, I lost; my heavy heart
was set adrift, awash with pain—
but through my tears I felt your hand
reach out to beckon me: “Again.”
I climbed until my breath gave out
to crest the highest summit’s crown,
yet in the stirring pines below
I watched them wordless point: “Again.”
After the music died I stared,
flanked all around by souls of song,
and in the applause I could hear
hundreds of ears pleading: “Again.”
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