The Dance Of Innocence

'The Waltz',Camille Claudel, Nogent-sur-seine

The Dance Of Innocence

At days end, the weary traveler mends, and hopes in fate to find a friend.

Waves, that peak on foreign shore's, and know only the harbours of destinies sweet Amour's.

Twas another time, one in which your hand slipped in mine, twice I drew it out, thrice you clasped it once again.

'In another land, in another tongue,

The same heart beat's in everyone.

In another time, in another place,

The unity of life, loves infinite grace.'

We met as waves that beat upon a shore,

That only yesteryear were ripples, no more!

The dance of innocence, swept across a floor,

Like a one winged bird, waiting to take flight,

Lyra and Aquila smiling down in delight.

The artist and the muse, trussed twice, bemused.

The battles we have waged to keep our heads above the waves,

The spinning maid and the cowherd too, all are saved, all renewed.

How much is lost when we say we have won?

Then two become three, the artists great revelry,

Of tune and sound, and all the beauty spread around.

A grub, feeding on the popular! Became a caterpillar,

And wallowed in the smog of industry;

Yet, butterflies need a swan, to feed upon,

Cocooned in a marooned inspiration,

Until in quiet silence, nature's belly opened

And a wing was born.

Two butterflies that dance upon the tumult of a warm spring sky,

Torn between the thunder and the sun;

Over grassy knoll and brook, they run,

Between the glades and blades of grass,

Along the forest paths, and ancient waters,

Spilling their iridescence upon the flowering effervescence.

The summer runs, and wild communion, sips in revelry,

Imbibing cups of Dionysian splendor,

While art thunders with every beat of your wings.

Two hearts that long were parted, found once more, in joy, restarted.

A bough of mutual bliss, interwoven - a heavenly kiss.

The mandarin duck and drake return,

from celestial realms of rainbow coloured clouds,

where no snake may injure them, nor burn, anymore.

The wrong is righted, the song sung amongst the Autumn willow,

Eases their craft upon silver streams of moonlit lantern's.

The waters break and ripple, just a little,

To fall upon some foreign shore,

In time, in waves,

Once more.

-RMP 2018