shevshenko@mailexcite.com

Nightshade

Thou art pale
in your weariness tonight.
Countless times you rose
(or were you always there?)
climbing this other side of
the mountain. I climb to where
you sit lowest, to whisper
to know the answers you see!
Yea! I speak to thee
amongst these umbrellas that
hides your sisters nakedness.
I know thou art wise
for on your face I see
impressions, where countless stones
were thrown. So I ask now
where is the flower that bathes
in your light? If this flower
bloom, for you, I wish to know
where it is, she hides.
I want to push, to place my face
against her genteel folds
to drink her nectar until, I am
filled with dreams, never to awaken
to be drawn into such a sleep
I turn, as wise as you
to be so pale, my ghostly presence
can love the world and be
their star.

© Copyright, 1/20/1993, L.S. Shevshenko.
All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.