Amaya
Your walk away into the echoing stillness
Of a crimson autumn sunset
Gently stepping over the leaf-strewn forest floor
As withered leaves under your feet
Bid you soft and gentle adieu.
The wild blossoms by your wayside smile
And lend you their fresh virgin fragrance
Or perhaps they borrow some from you
I know not for the breeze carries such tales
As it playfully ruffles the golden strands
Strewn upon your fair face.
Gathering twilight matches your hazel eyes
Its deep and dark limpid pools of love
Which beckon me to follow you
Into the echoing wilderness
Where twittering aves sit atop boughs
Welcoming me to their fold.
I can see the blueness of the sky melt
Into the blueness of approaching nocturne
As the shadows come alive and prepare
To rejoice night long with the beasts
Who have slept all day for night.
Then I am lost in the woods
And I know not where you went
Shrouded by trees, foliage and hanging creepers
I peer into the gnawing darkness
But see you not and I pause
Upon on the wet and cold forest floor.
I close my eyes momentarily
And then I get the whiff of your fragrance
The same old lime and lemony odour
It lingers nearby... but where are you Amaya?
A gently touch upon my shoulder
Awakens me from my trance
And I find myself in my bed
As always dreaming about you
And never knowing who awakens me
For I never see the one who does.
I try hard to fall back into slumber once again
Return to the woods where you left me alone
But the dream has disappeared like you
And I twist and turn through the night
My bedspread crumpled by the weight of your thoughts
Which script cryptic runes upon its creases
Only the darkness of the night understands
And then telegraphs them to my soul.
These are precious sacraments of my love
That will remain buried in another crypt
My heart has dug out in its yard
Leaving me to build a mausoleum over it
A shrine from where I would be bequeathed
Fragments of melancholy
To help me through my beggared morbid nights
So that they be laced with your longings.
Oh Amaya! Come and sing me a dirge
For here I stay interred within me
Holding on to fleeting vestiges of sanity
In my dark and damp crypt
Awaiting a soothing word from you.
And may death script my epitaph
So that your phantom may peruse it
When visiting the graveyard of my heart
Laying its shadow upon my gravestone -
Nay dark blossoms from paradise.
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