The River of Time II

I’ll leave a day before I have to

And will seem cold or even mean

When I hold out to you my hand to

Say good-bye; this time I will mean it;

/

From the museum you built around me

I cannot help but want to run:

I was born human, not an idol,

Frozen in place, forever young;

/

I will walk quicker than I need to,

I will go farther than I must,

And on the banks of a misty river

I’ll make of twigs a bony hut;

/

If on a dark night dies my bonfire,

My heart will set my flesh alight,

And smoke and fog will dance together,

And wood and bone will turn to dust;

/

You, who were me, the one who tried to

Protect from flames that born to burn,

To put on a pedestal a human, to keep

From leaving what was gone,

/

Don’t be afraid to live the moment

Of you and I becoming one

On the banks of a misty river

Under the early morning sun

Mother Night

I need to see your real face, Night;

Don’t wear your thick makeup of candlelight

Or reassure me with the ticking of the clock

Counting seconds in fear till the arrival of the morning;

/

I dream to speak to you in your tongue

Of heavy silence that makes tears fall,

When from the darkest corners of the lives forgotten

One’s every demon into their lap crawls;

/

I wish to rest my head against your chest,

Not watch you cautiously through windows and walls,

As if from freedom in a self-built cell

Locking myself until another tomorrow;
/

I want to love you like you do me,

And yet how can I with this plastic toy of a heart?

I want to know you like you know me,

And yet how can I with this mad clown of a mind?

/

At dusk I put all my past doubts to sleep,

Turn off the lights in my old home

And go back to you, Night, for you feel to me

Like to a prodigal daughter – her first Mother

To Remember

You, for whose wrongs I live in torture,

I wish I knew your name, at least;

I’m not you wife, I’m not your daughter –

You are whose soul lives on through me;

/

My hands are mine, my hands are yours,

And there were thousands before us;

Our own hands shaped and broke the world

With them we clung on and let go;

/

My voice is mine, and yet at times

It speaks in tones and tongues unknown,

To people just like you, long gone,

Trying to make peace with their ghosts;

/

And with my eyes on quiet nights

I see not dreams but recollections;

That life was yours, but it is me

Who keeps its skeletons and treasures;

/

Paths which my feet sometimes tread on

I recognize, and feel exhausted:

I’ve walked on them as you before,

And just like me, you were so lost then;

/

As I depart, with him I’ll plead,

With him, who’ll take from me the burden

Of all the wisdom and the ignorance,

Of all the love and all the hurt,

/

I’ll plead that, at the very least,

By him my name may be remembered,

So he can call to me and ask me of my sins

For which he must atone forever

The Offering

I sat before you in the dark,

Bare, nameless, fearful and courageous;

That night I offered you my all,

Not knowing what might happen if you’d take it;

/

I sit before you in the dark,

Bare, nameless, fearless, ruined

I love you so, I cannot break

The deadly bond which links you to me;

/

I’ll sit before you in the dark,

Bare, loving, hopeless, lifeless

And reaffirm my every vow:

You heard my voice, you held my hand –

And took my all in your wild kindness

The Monster

So often hurt would follow laughter;

At times a smile would help a tear dry faster;

By different people uttered, the same words

Sound wise in one voice, in another one – absurd;

/

On a dark winter day a ray of sunshine

Would offer solace, hope and joy;

While on an afternoon in summer

It may feel like but an annoyance;

/

Today you think I am a monster,

Who knows no empathy or love;

Tomorrow you might change your mind but,

Unlike today, you might be wrong