how our gypsy earrings flashed, even the tiny flowers we pressed into the ground
that received our remnants on a first night. how the wood spirits, naked,
gleamed and pounded their drums earthen to lustres
but silent the stone drums
how ground yet glistens beneath in a rain drumming all tongues
it shall be my lover again, and you also
for time has taken you only into the colorful sea
time takes me also into the sea
silent the stone, stone of caves, a history of man
grown large under a resolute gathering of dew,
traces of stone of the dead of the sea of all rains the tribes of millions
a silence of stone are stalagmites hung by time in caves
the melted candle shapes of the mineral of man hidden in the droplets of all
though silent the stone drums
I know the dead, I’ve snuffed mud fumes of blood through skin
and silent the stone through its howl of never being able to give birth —
though crows laughter's less melancholy than our mass
the soul flies on winged love
Comments
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Ahhh, you have so many of my favorite things within this piece, Danny...gypsies, music, the sea, stones & other things of a natural tone...let alone your inevitable brilliance. 
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This was just beautifully captivating ... The imagery here is sincerely deep and well woven to embrace - the beauty, the intensity of emotion, and the energy which surrounds. Its hopeful, yet with a sense of longing that still awaits union.
"how ground yet glistens beneath in a rain drumming all tongues
it shall be my lover again, and you also
for time has taken you only into the colorful sea "
That in itself was just so very soothing, a confession and sort of testimony to heart and of desire. Very well penned. This was incredible ... most certainly a new favorite!
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