I
see us at a lake. You’re a bit thoughtful. I ask of a diamond; you shrug.
Friendship breathes this way; where phantoms dream of flourishing; but what for
fame; to live it in silence, as vocal as images. You’re seen as opaque, to
speak with fluency, an idol for academia. Is it elfin charm, the constant
dialogue, to cause a lack of depth? I venture its vatic; that is, prophetic;
this vision within a dream. I see us at a lake, dressed smartly, palms a bit
sweaty; for the sun is speaking, both giving and draining, to tan a facial
expression. You look and smile; there’s something to a moment, where ripples
are forming. The winds are jesting, even calming, that inner oddness. We laugh
at ducks, to watch behavior, even a moment of contention. I ask but few
questions, in turn delighted, to hear your voice. This is gentle, as photic as
sunshine, tugging at sub-currents. We often live this way, by sharing the hem,
ever ludic at moments; that inner joy, to surge upward, to rupture in laughter.
I see a train, a musical design, as melic as our heartbeats. But what of
storms, a castle besieged—the nib of our thought-prints? I dare to ask, to see
it art-bound, the Psalms of David; but what of this thing, rooted in itself, as
florid as anguish? I dare to ask, to see it soul-bound, the Scriptures of St.
Paul. The birds are sullen—to experience a cycle, to sing of conditions. We
listen closely, to make for rhythms, as welkin as mind-light; where yours is
vivid, a universe upon a countenance, to clarify through reason. I dare
imagine, a heated debate, as earnest as honest; to feel for pressures, the art
of clarity, to define this human life; for we see a lake, a swirl of upwelling,
to share our snacks.
