Tell Me No More of Enchanted Days

The Dream "How can he do this to me, does he not love me anymore?" her voice cried over the phone. It's been more than a year since I saw her last, and I had believed she was happy with a ring and a song. "He does love you, but not himself enough." Her eyes were moist, I couldn't see her on a telephone line, but I knew. "How do you know that?" "I know that baby, because time teaches everything." I wanted to tell her, she'll go on, soon she'll forget the pain and the hurt, she won't hate the man she loved once so, but still remember what love felt like. I wanted to tell her, I wasn't as strong as I sounded, but it's not strength that matters, it's tolerance and forgiving. I wanted to tell her, how lovely she was, I wanted to tell her, that tomorrow the anger will fade away, and poetic justice prevail. But she wasn't ready, the broken bird wasn't ready to lick her wounds and fly away, so I soothed her wings a

Afternoon and Night (The trip in two parts) Afternoon She carried a message for me In the clouds, there she was. looking at me from curls of white So I smiled and floated with her The day turned from blue to pink to black Then like a long sleep it ended, the first yawn of a baby child Night Hot water is like love Warm, like a voltage sending shivers of ectasy in the beginning Then the blissful indulgence and the calm at the end of a ritual