Contributor: Bill Danskin
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For years we meandered to jaded drums
Lives transfixed on the repeatable bursting boulevards
In dreams we cradled love’s aching call
Its siren song- we marched to diminishing redoubtable chords
Of transcendence though not yet come.
Our hearts turn to a hall of looking glass resplendent
As radiance shines on the Temeraire, the sea unfolds its symmetry
A lunar pool speaks to itself as if in rhyme
Seeking only reconciliation of our years; our exquisite exile
We cling to that which is here.
What guides our name for the unnameable?
Brings us drink from the fluent and fickle stream?
Why cross oceans of time to be the abecedarian?
Our experience abates - recedes from its puissant perch
And brings a beginning to the quietus
So as the snow feathers its way like silent incandescence
A shimmering scape wraps round our open hearts
We walk as slow as the tranquil haze…….we whisper only in thought
Our soft eyes ahead – we share…we adore future fire
And dare we not to wake.
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Bill Danskin is a writer and former ecommerce executive at AT&T. His work can be found at billdanskin.co. After many moves is currently lives in Fayetteville PA where he enjoys the American agrarian ideal.
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