who dances in the setting sun

and who rides their horse

down these empty streets

early

early

before the taste of morning?

the deepest grief

is sorrow untold…

your last breath will surely come

and it could be

this

one

when you are

hooked and released by the thorny wings of time

you find

your own heart

your own wings

beating

softly…

pausing at the door

the faint breath of night

rush of memory

loosens the solidity of sorrow and joy

all is bathed in golden…

and this

simply this

is the miracle of our aliveness

this explosion

this quiet tsunami

this sonic boom

that drowns us

washes us away

fills us and empties us

this extraordinary ordinary…

our watercolor eyes

rippling through acres of summer

and winter…

our nakedness

exposed

and hidden

in unutterable words…

wings of sound cannot be held

even the wind cannot fathom its own magnificence

emotions wash through us

pouring infinite colors through our eyes…

and what of the songs you sang

long long ago?

where are the words?

where is your heart of yesteryear?

and where are your bones that lay broken

under clear desert skies?

where is the dance?

in the remembering?

in the forgetting?

in these tides of ancient moons

soaring across the vault of sky,

lost in the rainbows

streaming through our eyes

remembered and forgotten

in love…

and the stars burn

and fall

angels

sing

the songs of oceans

or was it the whales

I saw on the horizon

feeling their giant hearts

beating

as I feel yours

now

intimately

this

very

breath

our first

and last

.

who dances in the setting sun

bathed in golden sea

beckoning the deep,

taunting the stars to truly shine?

who rides the prayers of ancient moon?

her drops slowly

falling

into the shimmering?

or is it midnight that sings so valiantly

only to tremble at the coming of the

long

long

night