Past-de-deux

While you enter the stage,
your hair seems to turn Gray,
and I know that your knees hurt,
when you do a plié.

As the lights in the background,
fade slowly to blue,
I see a young ballerina,
in an old lace tutu.

It used to be hard to believe,
that this life will not last,
or that the time that remains,
would go by so fast.

I wish I could give back,
those glorious days,
when you walked the glissade,
with wondrous grace.

But while the corps de ballet,
stays always the same,
the dancer in front,
will have a new name.

(Evonity / Ben Scheffer aug. 12th 2010)

On the phone with someone you love

A distant horizon. A projection
of hope and desire. A soft breeze that
turns the sky to dust. A single thought,
endlessly repeated. One name.
One image of someone not you.

You hold her hand. Try to see
beyond her eyes. Beyond the line
dividing heaven from earth.
The yin and yang of simple dreams,
and long lived illusions.

This used to be a blessing.
Like the time of life offered
to us on the day of birth.
But it seems jaded now and troubled
by debt.

If only the remaining days
could be freed from words. You
might see life beyond its ending.

The reign of truth restored.

Love at the union of souls.

Life takes place in the valley

That enlightened age of first thoughts,
when you were barely five and
unaware of life or its meaning.

In the growing shadows of the trees,
you heard the distant sound of joy.
Voices coming from the valley.

Boys who chase girls,
who see the universe fit
in the palms of their hands.

To breath wasn't a gift. To age was a desire.
The purpose of life was to run,
not to catch or to get caught.