Assiduously, the gears pirouetted in their waltz
and the pendulum swayed with my inebriation
careening with all the lonely bones
and ephemeral montages and letters -
camouflaged in stone walls and iron eyes
like a gray madhouse without windows,
without doors; just a cage sheathing
the holocaust dislimning every breath
The cicatrix ailed and one by one
the hands of day reached out -
The rain soundlessly pummeling into sand,
the gyration of black figures in a storm,
the awakening of tulips on the lifted spring,
the stars promenading their diadems -
Life was blossoming at its best
because death is arriving like a thief
One by one, the world left
the labyrinthine cul-de-sac and
assailed into an empty saudade night
and one by one, my little hands
let go of your manifold vines and
swayed into the currents of dementia
Inside the wound of a lonely soul
I go gently, unfettered, unto this goodnight
where slumber is a luxurious peace
and remembering is an immovable feast
I shift, like constellations adrift the pensive sea
counting crows, feeling nothing
dreaming of being alive and the enviable,
bliss of being cradled in someone's dream
until the air let down the gilded stairs
and my Valkyrie arrives without a song.
Norman Santos
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/until-my-valkyrie-arrives/
