Band of Minstrels

Faintly, at the edge of memory,
I still myself, and turn within to hear.

What is this music, drawing near,
A song from ancient memory plucked?

A harmony of Space and Time,
The Formless here, with Form, entwined.

A Gossamer Dream in song,
Of Ecstasy, and Love's Longing.

Slowly coming into view,
A band of minstrels dancing through.

Through this Precious Dream of Life,
This Timeless Dance, in Time.

Woven…
Their many lives in mine.

Though countless players form the troupe,
I see but One Love drawing near.

It is Her eyes in theirs that Shine,
And Hers reflecting here, as mine.

She in Shiva's dance embraced…
Spinning both Dream, and Dreamer.

Her Heart in theirs, Shining,
And theirs in Hers, Abiding.

And together, sweet players,
We dance away the years,

And all too soon…
To Her, return…

Vanishing… whence we came.