Of a singular loon ...

.... across a land where mists of early morning
Half withhold a melody intended

For a single voice that can't quite clarify its sense
Of place, simply because the place requires it.

Blocking out our movement,
The gardener left these clues ~ Stone steps

Mount high into the court, encouraged by a brisk evening
Breeze, tracking us into the call

Of a singular loon

Crying for her mate against the far side
Of a lake reflecting specifc notes of association

Until we fell into its plot of wherever the card will lead,
Dropping off its sealed packages of evidence

Of what we might be saying to one another,
Two dancers working out their parts

Inside a practice studio, then ripping up the path
We point ourselves toward, a dance in repertory

For as long as it takes to master.
Half on foot, half flying, following the inlaid pattern

Across the floor until the pale mosic's picture
Made clear the teller's tale,

We slipped into a stolen palace as easily
As opening a book chosen randomly

From your library's
Shelf...

.... through a the palace grounds,
Where the fogs of half early morning retain
A melody intended for a simple voice
Which cannot completely clarify its direction of place,
Simply because the place requires it.

Blocking out of our movement,
The gardener left the frame of Thee, of The Indices
Of ~ The Stages of Stones high in the court,
Encouraged by a sharp breeze of evening,
Detecting us prowl the night,
Directing us toward the call

Of a singular loon crying for her companion
Against the remote side of a lake
Reflecting the specific notes of association
Until we fell into her song,
Piece by note,

From ground where our charts, our maps, carry out,
Dropping itself in addition to its packages
Sealed from the oblivion

What we could say to the ones, the others,
Of two dancers, us,

Establishing our parts inside a studio of practice,
Then tearing up our map,

Our score, improvising our flight, our song,
Our second act, inviting our audience inside, too,
Leading them toward us, our pleasure shared,

Flight's symphonic filigree, a miracle,
Both sight, sound, scenic spectacle a dance hitherto
Not danced deep within The Night of Forest,
A dance, a courtship, our gift for one another,
Our gift to the world,

As flesh in heir, the air, our reliquary
Of living light,

Our shared flight of light ~ Each Act, each sequence
We share, we forge, our articulate rain, reined passion,
Love's particulate, as particular letters snow ~
A dance, each pas de deux, in repertory as long
As it takes to the Master.

Half with foot, half of flight,
After the model inlaid through the floor

Until the image of the pale mosaic design details
Clearly The Tale of The Counter ~ Movement,
A contrapuntal cadence of steps, stepping off stones

Across The Night of Forest, we slipped into a stolen palace,
Our shared palette, a forest of pigment, trailing

A trail behind ...
.... as easily as opening a selected book,
By chance off your library's shelf ...

"Twittering One" wrote in message
oups.com...
... across a land where mists of early morning
Half withhold a melody intended

For a single voice that can't quite clarify its sense
Of place, simply because the place requires it.

Blocking out our movement,
The gardener left these clues ~ Stone steps

Mount high into the court, encouraged by a brisk evening
Breeze, tracking us into the call

Of a singular loon

Crying for her mate against the far side
Of a lake reflecting specifc notes of association

Until we fell into its plot of wherever the card will lead,
Dropping off its sealed packages of evidence

Of what we might be saying to one another,
Two dancers working out their parts

Inside a practice studio, then ripping up the path
We point ourselves toward, a dance in repertory

For as long as it takes to master.
Half on foot, half flying, following the inlaid pattern

Across the floor until the pale mosic's picture
Made clear the teller's tale,

We slipped into a stolen palace as easily
As opening a book chosen randomly

From your library's
Shelf...


Yoy write this??

It's very good .. A keeper!

L

Bee-Ji-like