Would like to sing myself a love song.

It’s been long in coming, yet always on its way.

A song that would reach down into my heart

like sweet water flowing easy from a stream.

Much too long has the desert parched therein.

All the while, me wandering aimless, far yet near.

Pondering with both eyes closed to myself.

Time is now for an oasis to spring,

from near-forgotten sands and dry dust dunes.

And see wild birds flocking thick into the trees.

Heralds of exotic colors and sounds

that burst the darkened shadows like pink dawn.

And watch me bounding with joy over palm trees,

wind and wet rain against my cheeks and jaw.


All lies before us, green mountains and hidden mists.

The play of the Gods, and songs from lyres

and flutes flecked with golden notes;

as the Sun crests in his lavender robes;

the songs pitching higher and higher,

vines curling in flames around our feet

and sweeping us into the laughing boughs

of smiling trees, gnarled giants of reddish mirth.

Raising rainbow notes in our honey-suckled hearts,

as we romp again like paradise hounds,

and leap from mountain to mountain

with cat-like ease and gut-thriving soul.

We are alive again, we shout and sing!

Yea! Hosanna! we cry aloud to one another.

The nights are over, we coo like doves.

Mornings are our twilight hours,

from here and from now on!

As the Tale spins itself Now,

like endless scrolls of blest Arabian sands,

forever, yes! Forevermore!

And so it is.

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