Here I lay waiting, astride the in between
Still I lay waiting, to cross to sleeping slumber dream.
My sleeping bride, my love, already lays upon her side,
She has passed to the no longer, no longer waiting side.
She lays silent next, whispering her silent breath,
Dreaming her silent dream, with whispered dreaming breath.
The July window is open, enters the warming air,
Rustles the trees their seasons, sails the sailing summers air,
And in their rustles I hear the days of canter they do but leave,
I skyward look, met by ceiling, as the sun bows this summer’s eve.
Moon all a pink in glow, lights the cradled arms,
Gives tow to the stars, gives voice to lovers psalms.
Silent the silence whispers, a silent whispered sound,
Muffles my ears with cupping whispers,
Quietened whispers cupping my ears with softly sound.
Floating down I fall further, obscure the gliding land,
A dream I slowly enter,
Real all but touch of hand.
Further still the silence stills my bounding beating world,
Times hands seem to pause still, pause but moving stand.
I do not mourn the faded light, I dream the coming dawn,
My love dreaming next to me and now I dream with her.
I have passed the great beyond to the land of sleeping dream,
No longer am I waiting, no longer in-between.
Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.