In the Steppes by Patrick Sean Lee (whitelam books txt) 📖

In the Steppes

A million miles away.

A million light years distant,

An eon ago...

There are more lifetimes than stars.

 

I see you, oh my love, my soul

never forgotten.

Your image, liken to a mist.

It rises from a landscape.

Toward the heavens,

So slowly.

Rises across the page

Of my slumbering consciousness.

 

The headdress you wear

Is silver, caressing hair

As dark, as black as midnight

On the steppes, in repose.

The jewel in the center,

Above your brow, is Ruby.

Glowing, yet soft in its radiance,

Encircled by still more

Stones that sparkle and twinkle,

Like stars orbiting

Their creator.

 

I hear a lovely melody.

It is birthed in your eyes,

Eyes that pale the precious stones.

You are smiling at me

As you drift upward, the corners

Of your mouth reaching

Without effort toward

Tassels of silver lace falling

From your crown.

Down, down, down

Along your satin cheeks,

Upon your breasts, your

Garment of many colors.

Crimson and black and silver

And gold. The collar of it

Is like my hands cupped on

The delicacy of your neck,

at your chin of ivory and wonder.

 

How I long to conquer time.

Go back to that brief moment

In that other life. That other realm

swept away.

To see you for another eternity,

Not for just this brief and fleeting

Dream I am trapped in.

 

The steppes have given way

To whiteness. You drift upward,

Into soft clouds. The music of you

Follows obediently, softening likewise.

Saddening.

A tent rises slowly into firmness

In the landscape as you leave me.

Once more.

As I awaken again to my reality.

 

A herd of reindeer. A trail of smoke

snaking after the image of you fading.

A man in Mongol headdress leading

His horse. Gazing upward. Bereft.

Wondering why you’ve left.

Will you ever, ever return?

 

It is me, so many million years ago.

Imprint

Publication Date: 11-15-2014

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
Borodin. Thank you. Gilda Tabarez, thank you.