I write notes on the score of time,
tracing faces blurred by absence.
I tear the canvas of days gone by,
becoming Poet, Jester, and Winter.
I am a smile stolen by the wind,
a future torn away too soon,
while into the obvious my song breaks forth.
Irreverent voice
falls tangled,
unfolds in a smile
and melts into weeping.
In the vertigo I lose your face,
the mirror overturns
and meaning is lost.
But the vanished world suddenly reappears,
interrupted hands touch once more,
the voids are filled, the canvas is mended,
your face returns and History begins again.
Madness smiles at me and regurgitates Meaning,
moment by moment it dissolves the instant,
it gazes at me, it bows—and all is Infinite.
I write notes on the score of time,
tracing faces blurred by absence.
I tear the canvas of days gone by,
becoming Poet, Jester, and Winter.
I am a smile stolen by the wind,
a future torn away too soon,
while into the obvious my song breaks forth.
Irreverent voice
falls tangled,
unfolds in a smile
and melts into weeping.
In the vertigo I lose your face,
the mirror overturns
and meaning is lost.
But the vanished world suddenly reappears,
interrupted hands touch once more,
the voids are filled, the canvas is mended,
your face returns and History begins again.
Madness smiles at me and regurgitates Meaning,
moment by moment it dissolves the instant,
it gazes at me, it bows—and all is Infinite.