In the nights of departures the heart is blood-eyed

The heart is inflamed from this pain and sorrow.
My eyes smile though they are full of blood,
and I am tied to the wind that blows
from the flower garden of your being.

I do not even slightly forget.
I am not even one moment removed
from the secrets of His Truth
because He is the only one who knows
how long this life will last.

The longest night of the year for me with my short life
is full of pain and secrets
because I did not find light anywhere
that is lit from a place of wishfulness.

My heart is aching,
my heart is aching,
and this is the tale of the glass and the stone.
Not tonight, not every night,
but every day is as long as this pain
that dances with the spirit of my dreams.

The breath of the wise man is a token for me
for only he knows this all is just a search and finding.

21 May 2001 Copenhagen, Denmark