when He spoke I heard each word distinctly spoken the silence broken was what He said but they only shook their heads as I repeatedly cried fools can't you hear gently they answered me your voice is clear when He wept they wiped my tears kept me consoled for the pain He felt fools are you so old you have no fears, have you no heart that grief can melt I insisted through the years but they would not depart when He slipped they caught me in their arms ripped the garments from my wound and staunched the flow fools let me go let me go I shouted in alarm as He swooned and still they did not see the shadows by the tree they never believed me then He was dying and I knew dying too that they would bury me there beside the tree where no one else could see but the fools were crying because I was lying so quietly watching the shadows and waiting this much I know about time there is safety only in the heart guard it well my love where is beauty lonely in the mart hard to sell my dove fame is rider pawing wind and cloud fool to reach so far blame is spider drawing in the crowd cruel of speech they are joys are token mainly for regret high the score I played toys are broken plainly to forget buy no more I said breath is fearless bolder than the mind few will sight my spire death is cheerless colder than the wind who will light my fire in the wake of sleep storm in the brain whips the dull season high while dunes of repetition pile against the night sandscarred to flight... hurriedly the shore frightened by tide sliding out from cat's paw scurries behind land's door, turns key in lock and dims the light... now wind and rain can rock the mind to a wild ship's bow, ride down a mile climb up a wall to mountain height of sky... dreams crash each side, tear anchor loose from sleep and madly race the lightning out to sea... everything changes: hands feet eyes the face of storm, all composition of the gray sameness, walls razed, roofs blown, the no of drought flooded out... the revenging dog barks loud across the fog and we wake to the nightmare violence of day, salt in mouth, sand in hair cold wakening for thirty years I lived a dream until I woke up with a scream and saw that all the things I'd dreamt had vanished in the dawn's contempt it was not I within the glass it was my mother's face alas a face so changed from mine I'd known I thought the years had turned to stone and where were all my innocence my glad beliefs and magic pence that I had saved to travel through a timeless world where dreams come true? not anything inside my hand no moment's evidence of sand just grayish pulp to make me damn the heartless proof I think, I am?