This Dream

January 2, 2005

I will not sweep from this doorstep
The dust loosed on your farewell
Sooner forget mine own hands
These hands that touched your face

The tears in this visage
Rivulets etching stone
The crack in this soul
Fearing you are gone forever

Nor shall I wash that same dust
From your feet should you return
For the richness you have carried
And the loss you have borne

May carry me
Sooner wipe the dust from my feet
Dust raised in my soul in pacing
Awaiting your return

Dust mingled with that of your passage
Scented sweet with jasmine forgetfulness
With myrrh of impatience
And sandalwood of these years past.


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