Post Festum
As the Maestro has stopped playing and the dance has ceased As the compass needle is roving about the destination As the celestial drama is over and the daughter of the god has turned back home…
When Time has ceased and the song become silent As the wind has slackened and the stars faded As the last flower of her species has laid down to rest on frozen land…
As the flute-player has left the Meads of the Blessed Spirits As the poet’s heart is bleeding in the shadows As the beautiful winter angel of the poem has got frost-bitten its fragile wings…
As the ballade’s liberated paper-dragon has crashed to the ground As the blessed rain has drawn away As the story-teller has gone astray and lost herself among blue tones in the night…
As the flowery garland has withered away and the glow turned to ashes As the butterflies has got weary in their flight As the eagle pierced by the arrow has fallen to the bottom of the ocean…
…one shall see everything like in a mirror
Then the sun shall weave golden veils at dawn Then the spheres once again shall tremble with life Then the illusion shall in a moment convert into the eternal pure and true
Copyright © 2011 Maria Kimdal
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