The Halls of the Wind [poetry]

I see you in the sunlight laughing behind the leaves
casting everything golden.
I see you in the color of the sky in the early
October morning; pale, crisp,
bespeaking wind and distant storms
above blazing trees.
I hear you in the river and the laughter
of strangers.

My eyes search the crowd
but never find your face.
My hand reaches through the darkness,
but never finds yours.
It is like you stand always behind me,
just out of sight and reach.

I can feel your eyes on my back,
but when I turn, you turn
keeping always out of sight;
your steps, the click of your boot heels,
in perpetual dance with mine,
moving as I move,
flowing through my existence,
around my dying flesh,
as I spin and spin in search of you.

Maybe I do not spin.
Maybe it is only the world
whirling its dervish
through time and space
Around, around,
as you stand behind me, still,
watching its performance
as it sways drunkenly
from season to season.

The swirl of colors and time
dizzy me, until you command
me to be still.
I kneel, my head
tilting and crackling,
not knowing whether it is gravity
holding me or the sound of your voice.
Vocalissimus, save me.
I am lost.
Master, I am lost.
You are all that holds me
in this wild world,
the only reason I do not fear
what is behind me
in the darkness.
I know it is you.
I cannot see the light glinting
off your steel and gold,
nor the fire
girding you in sashes of red,
but I feel you with me
as I feel the wind.

You are the wind, my love,
in your castle of light.
The castle of dreams
behind the veil
of a shadowed world.
Your roar is a whisper,
your whisper a trumpet,
the brazen chord
through the fading light.
I hear you, maestro,
I hear you calling in the woods
and the hills
over a distant horizon.

Your fingers play with my hair
Tangling and untangling,
I feel the rush of you over my skin,
over me, through me,
and you tell me, “It will be alright.”
Your voice echoes in the cavern
of my being and the well
of my soul,
the bell that calls men
to arms, and sings of death
and birth and peace.
There you toll, in me
abiding.
Your light grows as I grow,
you sing as I sing.
And all is well
in the halls of the wind.

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