THE SHROUDING

One day I was in love with a beautiful soul.
Then the trembling earth called out your name,
And you answered, by falling into the abyss of time.
The shrouding of your spirit glows, still, in afterglow.


When the precious lady slipper blooms in forest glade,
I will go to the conjuring ground and beckon you forth.
You will come, like the seeping dawn.
You will materialize out of the mist-masqued moss.


The pine boughs overhead will bridge in parobolic curves
To shield you from the sun.
I will not see your fleshly wrap; I never did before.
I will see the radiant heart you are, drumming life into the day.


I will hear the droning, sweet, enchanting sibilance of words.
I will see the dew evaporate in the warm swell of song.
I will shrink into the moment, overwhelmed a while.
I will slip to a sleep-like trance in the scent of your soul.


The earth will tremble no more. For you have come to me,
By moonlight, by serenading streams,
On wings of owls and doves;
Silently, like the first stroke of love upon my heart.


COPYRIGHT DAVE MARTIN - ADVENTURE AGENT