What is the difference 'tween sunlight and starlight, 'tween
cool lazy breezes and wild storm winds?
Where lies the mark between evening and morning, or
Midnight and noontime, or sunset and dawn?
How can I separate light out from shadow? Though why would I rob me
of all that is deep?
The shape of the pattern is forged in its difference; the ends and
beginnings are lost in a song.
I have drunk deep of the broadest of rivers, the deepest and
gentlest, the cool shining blue
Felt the caress of the slightest of breezes, the warmest
of sunshines, the kindest of dreams
Seen the bright scales of the dragon in motion, his eyes
filled with fire and his action with grace
Touched the rich fur of my lion of noondays, curled
my hands in his mane and myeslf by his side.
And I've been drawn to the clearest of streams, a great rushing of
water, a joy-note of sound
Heard the approach of the rumble of thunder and not
fled the lightning but turned into the wind
Strong though the current be, forceful the storm, I take
steps in the darkness and face down my fear
Patiently waiting, to brush through the river-fog
Finding in moonlight the one who is there.
In passing I've thought on the paths I've discarded, and found that
the
ones that were true I did take
I've half-drowned in currents too vast to imagine, and touched at the
depths that are far beyond ken
Seen shadows and lights of a time unremembered swirled deeper than
moonlight in sun-dappled eyes
Reached out to caress a sonata incarnate, a dream with a purpose, a
hope with a soul
I have been told that existence is boating, a coracle drifting,
the will but an oar
And rocks that are hardships, and slipstreams and eddies, send
whirling away from their course many ships
But /I'll/ raise my sail to catch breezes and storm-winds, sleep
out under sunlight and sparklings of stars
I've learned from meandering that new lands have beauty, and maps
are poor compn'y on any known shore.