Flighted wing of thought replaced his breath,
first love’s sight does shield the mind from cold.
A wind through open cloaks and doors ajar
delays the view beloved and stays the hold.
Swift pantomime! The heart’s desire made known
as fool before love’s eyes has saved him whole.
Mountains, stone-faced guards of patient love,
caressed by waves of ocean, endless scroll.
What lift has love within a rift,
bereft of time from which to sift?
The silence answers once, “Alone,
for countless shattered souls atone.”