Poetry / The Evening Wind

What could this be
this light at the edge of my window
where I see the fire, the outline of an angel
the brightness that illuminates the shadows before me?

Oh the divinity of the mystery, the reincarnation
of the golden sun as it might have been!
I see it, and it sees me
a light so brilliant that it creates its own day
and flashes like the moon
on a cloudless night.

And what a surprise it was to me
as I lay here in my sleep
naked in the arms of my blankets,
when all of a sudden
it could have been me as Danae
and this light as the breath of Zeus
descending from the heavens to seduce me.

I jumped from my slumber
and within this light I found a mirror—
a reflection of myself embracing the sun
with two great arms around me
and the warmth began to tingle in my skin
slowly throughout the cracks in my body
to the ends of my feet, it sank in.

This evening wind, so beautiful,
the messenger of Life in my bedroom window where I,
for so many years,
watched this modern life walking by
on broken feet, speaking in a withered tongue.

This window where I spent my lonliest days painting wildflowers
as I thought they might have been, dancing in the wind.
And here it was, my salvation in the night time
which has seen me weeping on the floor,
for so many hours I have spent here,
a sheen of moisture covering my pallid skin,
and the light has seen it all.

Where I kneel now on the bed,
it sees me and I am glad,
and as quick as a death shadow it could have taken me
given me wings so that I might fly,
and the night would return to itself,
dark and still and dead as it is,
but I would be gliding
on a celestial sort of wind
no walls remaining to confine me
no body to which I must hold on.

And up above the treetops into the farthest cloud
I’d hold my breath and ascend a little higher—
the velvet of the Evening Wind surrounding me—
I’d hold my breath and with a sudden burst of
splendour, I’d be gone.

A shower of stars and luminous sun,
I would become
nothing
and everything,
and all the world around you.

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