Isis In the Smoke
Isis in the Smoke
A hush has rested this quiet afternoons sunless wing
While his thoughts hang on a trembling tip between nowhere and knowing
And the flowers in his garden drip diamond drops of rain
The cool wet darken colours suffuse the window pane
As from his frozen fingers smoking drifts
The quietude is humming mute words that breathing softly gives
A curling pathway carrying so many memories
To the vacant love inside his eyes sent to another moments kiss
While the tapping rhythm of the sky dusts day to fallen dusk
These mysteries of living have perceived some other or another gentle task
The ghost of a soft bewitching smile calls once more to his heart
And his dreams are born by a sighing only her touching could impart
As a thundering roll echoes to lightning skies when the silence broke
Through the wafting layers and spiralling vines of blue grey drifting smoke
He espies the passages and the fields where only the lonely talk
Calling him once again to the place and time where only Angels walk
The room has slipped from dim to sheltered dark
While his breath in a cloud forms a ghostly unspoken remark
He raises the glowing ember to remind him of the time
To when all his love had a language in the vision in her body and her mind
No voice has uttered through the day the name that lay burning in his throat
From the dark and from all the stars fashioned a velvet shaded cloak
Which he swept about her naked shoulders in a universal flight
But from his dreams her pale form danced throughout the suffusing night
In the warmth of her arms he raised his soul and to her breast he lay the word
Her hair became his shadow his eyes became her smile and their name was once more heard
In a proclamation of a silence where lovers sometime walk
And so entwined they where carried to the time and place where only Angels talk
As suns wing lightens upon the shaft of a burgeoning morning
He swore by all that is sacred and by all his love he heard a distant laughing
And a garden filled with the green of flowers ignites his waking eye
Isis languished in the dazzled window pane with a smile he could not deny
As a thundering roll brings lightning skies to where the silence broke
Through the wafting layers and spiraling vines of blue grey drifting smoke
He espies the passages and the fields where only the lonely walk
Calling him once again to the place and time where only Angels talk
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