As always, your words began to take effect late into the night. They seeped inside, like maple syrup canoodling with some unsuspecting pancake. Without permission or propriety, they barged inside, bombarding my mind like white rapids gushing through an ineffective floodgate, taking over my mind’s cockpit like some welcome intruder steering my thoughts until everything else became secondary, became irrelevant. They bog me down; they lift me up… like lead shackles on the ankles of someone struggling to stay afloat, like the perfect draft that carries a glider over undulating green meadows, where we once used to stroll. Reluctantly at first, eventually at peace I have surrendered my buoy. You are free to drift at sea. Leagues under, I recall…
Absolved of all the corruption that dwells within, my thoughts are clear and pure. With the rhythmic fluttering fin of a fish I see a friend, a forgiven but never a forgotten… and some swerving current carry my unsaid words to the surface where even the waves begin to dance to the whirling baton of the moon…
Under the dog star sail
Over the reefs of moonshine
Under the skies of fall
North, north west, the Stones of Faroe
Under the Arctic fire
Over the seas of silence
Hauling on frozen ropes
For all my days remaining
But would north be true?
All colours bleed to red
Asleep on the ocean's bed
Drifting on empty seas
For all my days remaining
But would north be true?
Why should I?
Why should I cry for you?
Dark angels follow me
Over a godless sea
Mountains of endless falling,
For all my days remaining,
What would be true?
Sometimes I see your face,
The stars seem to lose their place
Why must I think of you?
Why must I?
Why should I?
Why should I cry for you?
Why would you want me to?
And what would it mean to say,
That, "I loved you in my fashion"?
What would be true?
Why should I?
Why should I cry for you?
(Sting - Why Should I Cry For You?)
*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
I hear the rustic crunch of withered autumn leaves as I walk the path to your door, never having it in me to take another two steps and knock, to ask you my questions, to listen to your eyes…
I’ll put the kettle on; I hope you’ll stay for a while
Sitting by the fireplace, I’ll narrate, make you smile
In fact, let’s save time, I’ll boil it all down just for you
Become my blanket, because this cardigan just won’t do
