Author Information
Dreaming of Wild Blackness
The dancers stop.
The dancers drop.
We applaud when we are sad,
low class lightning fill us all
with odd feelings of helplessness.
We black our eyes for fun,
our gathering has eclipsed the sun.
We have to smile and fantasize,
we're all here now - black suits,
black ties.
In still motion
we'll find life,
the things we'll learn
are as wild as red;
our goddess gave our souls
new wings; we still won't fly
whenever she sings.
I'll pray a long, long time,
with the omens that death gives to me.
If I pray with living souls,
I'll remember what she sings
to me: the love of death
when one is dead,
is a thornless rose, reborn;
the love of life,
when one's soul is sad,
is a diamond shattered
and torn, we'll save our lives
against the time that all will
live again.
We'll dream our dreams,
and live our deaths,
and sing when we can.
