Once again I had a dream
in which I saw reflections of your light.
Morpheus, the cruel trickster..
sprinkled snow over my eyelids
in the dead of night.
Morpheus, the silly jokester..
sprinkled frost over my lashes..
as I slept.
And when I woke.. my heart was ice.
And when I rose.. I coldly wept.
Because an iceberg..
Never sinks into The Ocean’s depth.

Only The Sun can melt a heart of ice.
And she hideth from me now..
Behind a dark and stormy cloud
up in the skies.
Her warmth appears to me
only in dreams, these days..
and only in the dead of night,
and only as a dim reflection in a mirror..
of her light.

If only that The Poet’s heart could see
its truth more soberly..
if only it could peer into its darkness..
make it clearer.. to see it clearly..
to sense its heartbeat ever keenly.
Alas, the visible is only that
which on the surface floats.
The deepest is submerged
into the darkness..
into the depths below.
Hidden.. is all that it will ever be.
Locked away in a treasure chest..
at the bottom of a sea.