Seeing what is to be in my dream before I awoke.
Thou beside me singing on a highland shore.
A crimson sun rising over the sea.
Lilacs all around, the scent of their opening in the light of dawn.
This is Eden, the garden that was meant to be Heaven.
We ask for nothing more;
we have all in each other just as it began.
We are full no longer empty, we are one again with each other forever.
On the blanket before us:
A jug of wine, a loaf of bread and
A book of your verse open to your poem, ”Seeing October”:
Dance of leaves on cobalt sky,
flare and startle of cardinal’s wing:
these I store against the day I die.
Nets of gold in the afternoon:
crimson darting in mid-air,
embers underfoot, glowing in the gloom.
Sunset flush on red brick wall,
windows winking like spectacles,
beneath the eyes of stars, blue evenfall.
Deep the dark, my candle dead:
Midnight’s breath will blow me blind.
Then all I stored today will light my mind
Till morning breaks ahead.
Eric C. Bow 