The memory of you, sweet love,
rests in the marbled kingdoms of my fantasies.
If only I were there to bid you well,
we'd speak of plans yet laid,
dreams unfulfilled,
the emergence of life force on other planes,
of future...
My life, an illusion,
yet my walk with you, real.
In this cold place of dark shadow,
a distant world beckons.
At this place of given time and era,
a thousand people rest,
yet there seems a pulse.
A twinge of consciousness perhaps...
of dreams unfulfilled,
perhaps a beckoning,
perhaps of future.
I believe in this paradox...
this strange dwelling of life and death intertwined.
To accept it's reality on this parallel plane
gives comfort...
I see you there
waiting...
long arms stretched to my soul,
shall I shed this rope,
this lifeline in time...
A seafaring vessel on oceans of primeval past lives...
I linger at this life's estate,
nourished with life force
and will to receive...
Yet I walk this path with you
knowing where you stand
on my pier of promise,
your outstretched hand in mine...
into the realm of distant futures,
a longing...
