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Red Dream, White Winter
- Red Dream, White Winter -
I watched the flowers bloom in the spring, and my hope did soar anew,
I beheld as they withered in the summer heat, but still I did hold true.
To dreams so fleeting that I wonder if they had graced my soul at all,
I did cling, with the faith of one who stands strong before the squall.
Oh muses, grant my lips the fire with which to speak of my madness...
To speak of passions hoped for, eternal love yearned for in sadness!
I watched my dreams wither, as the mountains are worn with years,
I beheld so many loved ones pass before me, each loss many tears.
The fire, unquenched within me, stirred with the autumn colors' rising,
And in that fire I thought I spied a maiden's face ever young, undying.
The symbol of a quest unfinished, a year not through, a life to live full,
As there is no emptiness in dreams, only strong hope born of the will.
Are all who quest for happiness made first to know pain?
Mayhap, for true relief arrives if we survive past strain!
Thus winter came unto me unbidden, and the snow fell upon the land!
My ears heard the wailing of the wind, howling past my windowpane,
And sleepily I dreamed anew, my eyes grown heavy with night's sand.
That soil which saps one's reason, and takes hours for each tiny grain,
So came I to walk in lifetimes past, my soul's memory journeying back.
And in a hall I stood, with many robed men and women, eyes all black!
My own were blue as the sky, as they ever were, and so I did behold...
An elder gentleman walk up to me, a question forming on lips very old.
'Do you still seek the Grail, noble knight, and if so then answer truly...
For you the Grail is a maiden, and that is the truth that you discovered,
And so I must ask thee, noble knight, if you still seek the Grail, verily...
For none who seek it must abandon the journey they have uncovered.'
Are all who quest for enlightenment forced to see clear?
Mayhap, for clarity is the fabric felt best when sheer!
Still I seek: for what is the Grail but an ideal of what can save us best?
My heart yearns for the salvation that only love can bring, and so at last,
The truth of dreams leads one to ask, how many times have I sought...
Through age after age, time after time: until peace is so dearly bought.
No coin may purchase the treasure I seek; who shall pass me the Cup,
That I may drink of her lips, drowning my fire in the wine of love deep?
Oh Queen of Cups, before you I am meek and gentle, a newborn pup,
For were I to kneel before any mortal, I would choose to at your feet.
Reveal yourself, for am I not the Fool for which you have awaited long?
Our cards were drawn before the world was made, 'ere the first dawn!
Stronger than the thrones of kings, and with that strength I do endure,
As the snow, falls, and wind howls, and as the ocean batters the shore.
Are all who quest for peace made mad by a desire for it?
Mayhap, but peace is the warmest lap in which to sit!
Such was the maelstrom of my thoughts on awakening from old dream,
That I felt as if I glimpsed a universe of emotions, adrift upon a stream.
I dare not cast them away, for every feeling did bear my truest name...
And what would I be without my heart, which must eternally be aflame?
A single question forms upon my lips as I cast about once more to pray:
'Who is she for whom I have sought for lifetime after lifetime now past?
This one yet is unfinished, and I must find her 'ere the years go astray;
I must be strong, I must endure; even hard mountains I must outlast!'
But time presses all to be swift, and so I seek swiftly, and ever strong.
The Red Queen awaits me, though I know her not and yet am devoted,
As are all who set upon the path that dares not stray nor go too wrong!
She holds a rose in her hand, the perfume of which makes me besotted.
Are all who quest for love made mad by passion in turn?
Mayhap, but love is the fire in which, comforted, I burn!
I will place the wood upon the cold hearth, but who shall kindle the fire?
When chill grows the year and bitter the air, I play a song upon my lyre.
A song of love, writ long ago in red letters upon my spirit in another era,
When gods were not so distant, and many knew so well Zeus and Hera!
Who shall I teach the words to, when the time is come to pass it hence?
On winter nights, my voice alone fills the air and travels upward thence.
One lone and lonely song, amidst the cry of stars and worlds in infancy...
To reach the ears of divinities now far: in the hopes that I will be heard.
Some would call it foolishness to hope, but faith is ever a kind of lunacy,
And many has been the time when miracles came out of notions absurd!
I will continue to sing, ceasing only when I have someone to sing with...
For long are the hours of night until the morn, and I must make my wish.
I watched the flowers bloom in the spring, and my hope did soar anew,
I beheld as they withered in the summer heat, but still I did hold true.
To dreams so fleeting that I wonder if they had graced my soul at all,
I did cling, with the faith of one who stands strong before the squall.
Oh muses, grant my lips the fire with which to speak of my madness...
To speak of passions hoped for, eternal love yearned for in sadness!
I watched my dreams wither, as the mountains are worn with years,
I beheld so many loved ones pass before me, each loss many tears.
The fire, unquenched within me, stirred with the autumn colors' rising,
And in that fire I thought I spied a maiden's face ever young, undying.
The symbol of a quest unfinished, a year not through, a life to live full,
As there is no emptiness in dreams, only strong hope born of the will.
Are all who quest for happiness made first to know pain?
Mayhap, for true relief arrives if we survive past strain!
Thus winter came unto me unbidden, and the snow fell upon the land!
My ears heard the wailing of the wind, howling past my windowpane,
And sleepily I dreamed anew, my eyes grown heavy with night's sand.
That soil which saps one's reason, and takes hours for each tiny grain,
So came I to walk in lifetimes past, my soul's memory journeying back.
And in a hall I stood, with many robed men and women, eyes all black!
My own were blue as the sky, as they ever were, and so I did behold...
An elder gentleman walk up to me, a question forming on lips very old.
'Do you still seek the Grail, noble knight, and if so then answer truly...
For you the Grail is a maiden, and that is the truth that you discovered,
And so I must ask thee, noble knight, if you still seek the Grail, verily...
For none who seek it must abandon the journey they have uncovered.'
Are all who quest for enlightenment forced to see clear?
Mayhap, for clarity is the fabric felt best when sheer!
Still I seek: for what is the Grail but an ideal of what can save us best?
My heart yearns for the salvation that only love can bring, and so at last,
The truth of dreams leads one to ask, how many times have I sought...
Through age after age, time after time: until peace is so dearly bought.
No coin may purchase the treasure I seek; who shall pass me the Cup,
That I may drink of her lips, drowning my fire in the wine of love deep?
Oh Queen of Cups, before you I am meek and gentle, a newborn pup,
For were I to kneel before any mortal, I would choose to at your feet.
Reveal yourself, for am I not the Fool for which you have awaited long?
Our cards were drawn before the world was made, 'ere the first dawn!
Stronger than the thrones of kings, and with that strength I do endure,
As the snow, falls, and wind howls, and as the ocean batters the shore.
Are all who quest for peace made mad by a desire for it?
Mayhap, but peace is the warmest lap in which to sit!
Such was the maelstrom of my thoughts on awakening from old dream,
That I felt as if I glimpsed a universe of emotions, adrift upon a stream.
I dare not cast them away, for every feeling did bear my truest name...
And what would I be without my heart, which must eternally be aflame?
A single question forms upon my lips as I cast about once more to pray:
'Who is she for whom I have sought for lifetime after lifetime now past?
This one yet is unfinished, and I must find her 'ere the years go astray;
I must be strong, I must endure; even hard mountains I must outlast!'
But time presses all to be swift, and so I seek swiftly, and ever strong.
The Red Queen awaits me, though I know her not and yet am devoted,
As are all who set upon the path that dares not stray nor go too wrong!
She holds a rose in her hand, the perfume of which makes me besotted.
Are all who quest for love made mad by passion in turn?
Mayhap, but love is the fire in which, comforted, I burn!
I will place the wood upon the cold hearth, but who shall kindle the fire?
When chill grows the year and bitter the air, I play a song upon my lyre.
A song of love, writ long ago in red letters upon my spirit in another era,
When gods were not so distant, and many knew so well Zeus and Hera!
Who shall I teach the words to, when the time is come to pass it hence?
On winter nights, my voice alone fills the air and travels upward thence.
One lone and lonely song, amidst the cry of stars and worlds in infancy...
To reach the ears of divinities now far: in the hopes that I will be heard.
Some would call it foolishness to hope, but faith is ever a kind of lunacy,
And many has been the time when miracles came out of notions absurd!
I will continue to sing, ceasing only when I have someone to sing with...
For long are the hours of night until the morn, and I must make my wish.
Published 9th Nov 2011
| Edited 5th Dec 2012
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