Only wisps of breath are found in these lacy, gauze lit halls.
’Tis the only place that we can meet when dark, the curtain falls.

We find our way on hand and knee, much as a child of young,
And listen for that familiar tune so blessed and sweetly sung.

At times the shadows startle us, they catch us unaware.
While in our sleep a beckoning is all that takes us there.

In dreams we capture all the thoughts we thought to throw away,
And weave them lost and colorless to keep them from the day.

Assured, these gentle passings are neither foe nor friend
But just another last look back before the long day's end.

09/22/2004