Were you to walk these streets,
Your sigh would scatter seeds,
Little dreamy pebbles sent
To take the place that’s mortar meant.
So when a town is overgrown,
By branch and petal taken down,
I’ll know where your spirits walk,
And I’ll know with whom to talk.
I told her “My dream awaits
Beyond the olive groves,
It hides in the warmth
Of a figs sugary folds.”
I told her “My childhood,
Nestled in your jasmine vines,
Swings in whispering scents
That powder your neck in thyme.”
I told her “My heart lives
In Palestine’s street,
In your life visit again
So I can feel my heart beat.”
I have walked among the clouds,
And where are they now?
There is no welcome to the sky,
That isn’t whispered in your sigh.
Had I been ready to pray,
When we sat beneath the oak,
What would have I to say,
If I hadn’t listened to these folk.
It’s not that careless I came,
Or that my spirit’s stern,
But nothing is the same
When I hear the oak and fern.
I can not say what I know, or don’t,
Yet I pray for your smile.
And even if today you won’t,
One day it will be worth the while.
Cantos continued…
Can you feel the moon as it was
That night that passed in falling stars?
We were since a bedtime fable…
Though sleep I shan’t,and sleep you’re able.
I’d often think that fireflies
Would drink beyond their means,
Stuttering aloft this canopy
Spilling sips of revelry.
A setting sun sheds it’s colour,
Beneath timid summer leaves.
As winds would shy past shutters,
Wooded souls swayed warm and dreamed.
In the solitude
Of our temples heart,
We wrote our names
Into the wind,
A written music
For those with wings.
The perched prayers
Flutter…begin.
When you were the sea of my eye,
My self fell upon wings so shy.
When was laughter last so light,
That I had felt forgotten flight.
ahorsealone 
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