Drifting, flowing,
I am awakened -
Your phantom melodies call me forward,
Icy breath blowing, touching each frigid vertebrae as
Gliding, gilded fingertips play me,
Plying me with promises yet unknown.

Wicked memories penetrate the white-glazed slopes,
You are wrapped in dark woven cloth,
Blue eyes brilliant in the cold,
Dancing over me, glancing away across the glen,
And I turn…I turn to see your face -
I turn into the mist, into the faceless form of you…

Each chime of the bell,
My heart pounding out your rhythm,
Your fingers on the keys, your hands along my spine,
The movements one and the same,
Twisting about each other, wrapping into one,
I see you…I feel you, you are moving toward me,

A gentle spring rain tracing my features,
A waltz in the clouds, in the chapel, toes touching,
Side-stepping along the triforium,
The bells ringing in the tower,
And your hands….pure magic, moving toward me,
Your voice clear and ringing…

Still, you’re lost in the drifting, clinging fog,
A phantom of melody haunted,
Haunted by the shadows of the slopes,
Haunted by the memories of me…