Speak to me in hushed whispers
that sound like sand moved by tide water,
or let your meaning be gestures,
invisible as a hummingbird’s wings;
for I no longer hear the roar of the waterfall,
or the crash of the avalanche.
The sound the world makes
when it’s dying
has drowned out the wind.
Even the moon moves in different courses, now.
He seeks to keep his dance a secret,
but I can decipher his intent
in the bend of his parabola.
He is not all round, you know;
he has sharp edges
and a long memory.
He was watched us for a very long time.
Let your breath come easy, my friend.
Come, take a rest by my fire.
I no longer run the Race of Fools,
to be beaten,
haggard and broken,
in stiff competition under the lash.
Instead, I am free
to learn the language of the Unknown Tongue.
I have stopped trading in lying sounds
and now I hear and see only true meanings.
I am waiting for you to join me,
on the other side of your fear.
Let go of those hard, carbon chains
and glamorous names
that restrain you
and be restored to your rightful kingdom.
Here, the only thing to fear is the dark,
but in the dark,
we are also fearsome.
The Moon is large
And his dance is calling.
You can hear it
in the rhythm of your primal heart.
HG – 2016
