Back

The Poet's Dance

The cover opens, the pages turn, a book that rested high.

The poets wake and one by one they dance before my eye.

They move with joy that must have come from such a hellish wait.

Like those whose death is spent in doubt before their heavens gate.

This heaven's not a place or time but just another soul

To share the dance of hope and grief, oh how life takes its toll.

With steps in time to natures rhyme, they dance with lettered feet

And  watch to see if those who've come can stay upon their seat.

They grab my hand and lead me on, it's they who know the way.

These unsealed lips have kissed the past and have so much to say.

Their echoes ring throughout the hall, with spins from page to page.

Each poet shares their dance of time then exits from the stage.

But far from gone, their spirit lasts, and soon will join the next

'Til hand in hand the dance will grow, this ballroom of the text.

The heavens saved the depths of time, they lingered in the air

'Til winds of truth blew poets near and trusted to their care.

The secret dance of souls gone by, with steps we'd all forsake

Had love and joy not made demands, it's these that we must take.

The night draws on and soon of course, the cover must be sealed.

Like coffin lids that once had hid these poets since revealed

Though on these faces laid to rest, I though I sensed a smile.

Perhaps this time has been just fine, if only for awhile.

The cover falls and once again they're hoisted to the grave

But rot they won't , for nature yields, her secrets theirs to save.

'Til some fair soul, again may pass, perhaps like me, by chance

And come across this treasured past still longing for a dance.

Back