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Gray Light

Gentle wake in gray light
A truth still rings through morning
A truth still rings through night
As I walk a boreal palace
Of gossamer recollections
And topiary shadows
Tending flame without fire
In an uninhabited empire
 
My body is a vessel
That sails the open sea
A ship without a port
That travels far and free
A raft upon the Great Stream
Where poets quell their thirst
Where poets come to dream
And watch the world reversed
 
Cradled in the moment
Of a sunbeam smile
Entranced in swaying branches
That creaked in ambulation
Holding secrets in their bark
Of changing time and nation
Of sailing views and velvet skies
Of painted stars in silver dyes
 
Where I held a figure in my arms
And thought that I was dreaming
I gave it all my meaning
Lingering beneath the moon
Bodies pressed together
In breath that held a rhythm
Slow, soft and curious
And all of time stood still
 
And I reformed with greatest pain
A stark truth ringing
Through the quiet morning
Through the quiet night
Through the heuristic mind
Seeking warm vacuity
I feel it in the severance
I feel it in the resonance
I feel it in the subtleties
In the language of the eyes
Holding rivers of pure silence
That make of me a mystery
 
And it spills through my fingers
Over and over and over
Living in what I touch
Surging like electrical arches
Reaching out to find her
Living in words on the wall
That traverse an empty hall
In my boreal palace
And her truth still rings
Through the quiet morning
Her truth still rings
Through the quiet night
Her truth still rings
In the gentle waking
Of a gray light
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