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I MET YOU IN A DREAM -- page two





       Midnight apples in a silver sky

       Have you hoped before?


                         Lonely Hunter!

       Bright armored

       Peacock plumed

       Seated on a stately stead

       Magic sword and horn in hand

                         Turned to stone.


       In a ferny glade

       Dappled by late afternoon's

       Golden rays

          The Lady's dancing form

       So softly lit

       Yet brilliant to my eyes

       Did transfix and hold me

                         It is I

                         The Hunter

                         Who is caught

       With a sigh

       Magic sword slips forgotten

       At the dazzling sight

          Her fairy form

          And shimmering rainbow hair

       Uplifted by the vision

                      Happy Hunter

       As the geese across the sky

       Let loose the magic sign

       That put the dew of love

       To every petal, blade and bush

                         Taking the Lady's hand

                         A dance began

       Dancing apples in a singing sky

          Have you danced before?


       Can you feel

       The pleasure of the moment

       Lift you

       As a dory on the swell

       Glow you

       Finer than any wine?

       Does it come

       Like clouds before the storm,

       Fast and frothing?

       Does it come

       In waves

       To rise, recede, rise again;

       Endlessly repeated?


       Boiling clouds

          In a wind swept sky

                      I am the wind

       Colors dance in sunset

          And sunrise skies

             Half the world away

                      And I view them both

                      In the same instant

       Happiness . . .

          Serenity . . .

                      I hold the planets

                      In the palm of my hand

                      I command flowers to bloom

                      And rains to fall

       Joy as I have never felt . . .

          Completion . . .


                                                   A ringing . . .

                                                   A distant call .


                                                   An alarm clock!


       Back to the body

       Grey light of early morn

       Body waking in a warm bed . . .

                                  Like putting on a familiar glove

                                  I slip into the body

       And open its eyes

       Table and chairs, but dim shadows

       Struggling sluggish fingers

       Fumble for clanging clock . . .

                                  Sudden quiet.


                A smile spreads

                Across my face

                Another day of Living







                               And I'm still

                               The Hunter

                               On a quest

                               Of the heart.


                                     16 Jun 80



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