Liberty And Darkness

Everything fades into distance
In the shadow of her eyes.
The winds die like a moth
As she speaks of iron dreams.

The landscape of dew
Knows her intimately,
The rocks remove their masks of lichen
To smile at her lenient advance.

Views of winter showers
Bear her name in stone,
Her familiarity is a Muse
To this theatre of silence.

Lost in a world without scent
She wishes for the rose's napping breath.

If you want to learn her name
Ask the fragrant thyme.

The bells of the little chapel
Toll proudly when she passes.

Look at her; a horizon appears.
Turn away; it quietly disappears.

A fisherman, with all the priest's names
On his salty lips, awaits her
In the narrow churchyard of smoke.
He bears with him her history.
She will go back, trodding paths
Beaten by a harsh wind.
But she will return only after sunset
And the skyline of crucifixion
Will greet her only in darkness.