“Waltz of the Clouds” in seven parts, by Bob Rich
“Waltz of the Clouds” in seven parts, by Bob Rich (photograph courtesy of Teresa Pruitt)
I. Visitation
I sit on my bed in a forsaken room
Slowly praying a deep soulful wish
Still reeling from years of oppression and gloom
That is reaching a feverish pitch.
While looking for goodness and searching for light
The sorrow splits air into fire
Parades of despair swirl around through the night
In one voice, they call hope a liar.
And then in my room: an angel warm-hearted
With a face that is ancient and wise
Raising its staff, with sorrow departed
I feel the sweet spiritual sighs.
“Arise!” says the angel, “from these ice-filled years,
“I unlock your spiraling prison,
Friend, your plea has been heard! In heaven: no tears,
I brighten your sad eyes with vision.”
My eyes then reflect bright compassionate light
Out a window, I stare in relief
A long glowing trail shows the angel’s quick flight
Rising up to the sky like a thief.
II. Meeting
A vision comes when I see two clouds appear
A man shape and form of a woman
Could some angel’s hand write a love letter here
In bright ink from a musical pen?
In her eyes: he feels grace; her smile: a balm
Her face like a spiritual lamp
In his voice: she is safe; at rest in his calm
And his words bring her warmth through the damp.
III. Calm
His gentle approach and her fists now unclench
Like blooming and bright sudden flowers
Her misted perfume becomes droplets that drench
Igniting the sky’s thund’rous powers.
IV. The Endless, Somber Days Before Today
The heart is a chamber, alone and forlorn
Til sunlight streams through aching windows
It looks like a waltz between clouds has been born
At once nature’s true medicine flows.
Under moon, she spent her nights watching in vain
Night by night staring into the sea
Which churned like a shimmering glass of champagne
All un-savored yet watched ceaselessly.
Under sun, he had watched with wearisome eyes
Each day saw the sea as a fountain
Without wishful coins, full of watery cries ~~
He never could hear restful sound in.
V. Dance in a Palace of Light
They turn toward each other like lovers sublime
In a palace of vast lonely sky
Some lightning bolts, crackling like harpsichords, chime
While the two clouds embrace in a sigh.
Their waltz carries on, in a path carved in blue
Like a wheel turning slowly and grand
The sun had grown tired of the tears from these two ~~
Which would endlessly punish the sand.
A gust of light roars with a burst of wind gales
With all misery hurled to the moon
The warm soulful logic of romance prevails
As they kiss in a strong misty swoon.
VI. Afterwards
With yesterday’s sorrow a frail satellite ~~
Hurled straight to the sun’s blazing heat
The un-destroyed music of waltzing tonight,
Under stars’ candlelight, is complete.
VII. Back from the Sky
Returned to my room, I remember my youth
Back when romance was: blue far-off stars
Then came teenage years, I learned more of the truth
Like a branch that burned, leaving some scars.
When a young adult: fire, ablaze, orange-red
Yet the stone in my hand felt so cold
Then, in the air, fragrance of freshly baked bread
Spread with butter and honey so bold.
As I drift off to sleep, a moment of bliss
At last, I feel peace only after
I think on the sound moments after their kiss:
Not trumpets, just childlike laughter.
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