For all my life, I have not seen the world
As others see – I have not felt the love
As others feel – I have kept away from it
All wonderful, beautiful, blissful ever!
Now the eyes that have seen and witnessed
The vagaries of the world in their league
Begin to wane in clouds of shattered dreams
That were clinging to the myopic windowsills
And prepare to let them go with the memories
Of images that they have cherished for rarity.
The lights of the windows to the world flicker
In the red wind growing strong and stronger;
And the keeper of the castle weeps in darkness.
The heart is a jeweled constellation
Made of fire and dew – all aglow
Of garnet and crystal in reflection
On the windows of the misted eyes.
The soul is a maid in the mind’s temple
Who keeps the heart’s stars in space
From the shrieks of violence that tremble
The stars and fall them into pieces.
The congress of professed faithfuls gather
Under a great kiosk of memorial Agnes Dei
Wearing their best masks misfitted altogether
Sitting on the paws as pious sinners to pray
Reciting verses that become meaningless
Abracadabra that no pagans would know!
The Feast of Life resurrected in Pascal Mysteries
Is the feast of absurdities in deceived fallacies,
And the heart among the entranced worshippers
Pounds in great beats of passion and faints in weeps.
Their love was sterling silver,
never to be stained with rust.
It’s all made of faith and duty;
It’s all made of sighs and smiles;
It’s all made of fantasy and reality.
He would for the crown of the palace
keep his faith and troth till the end.
The journey into the night is long
And the heart of a traveler’s beating
When the sound of pen flute fills
The wide-open field with thrills
Of the entranced temptation
That nymphs and shepherds fall
And lose their hours in pleasure