Reflections

 

Still remote,

the flame of day

appears to me

behind this dream.

 

l turn my head back,

and further back

l see a man,

sat on the stone of night.

 

There he is, withing,

despite all darkness

wondering who is that,

walking in his shadow,

dying of love,

laughing at death.

 

Laughter is a time,

it does not count

when fear betrays.

 

A sound rains

and the blue is sky.

Clarity is borne before, from

deeper blue and sadness.

 

B.O.M. Image from web.