For You and the Embers

The embers burn like gold and red dreams in my bed I feel them in the fall after summer has taken their lives Smooth and crisp at the same time waiting for the fire to bring them wings And dance upon the harvest moon beams of joy and forgiveness It is a time of cold beginnings and losses never to be regained We marched across the steppes into the land of spiders and boys Little girls watch from afar never understanding the enchantment of the fire It is for young men to make their winter beds and slip into cool streams Float on a full moon night Icy Dark Incriminating Merciless Down to the bottom of the Miller’s creek where the demons wait in satin Smooth as time and as old as the four winds. We cannot wait to see their tongues forked in the wind Whispering out unto the sea. Entrancing dragons of old that sailed on the ships of the Norse. Come into my bed. Breathe the danger of my musk. It will bring you back to the bars of Constantinople and we will smoke the opium of yellow men. And in that smoke we will rise up and understand the fall of the Romans and the rise of the Muslim’s. For ours are not the dreams of great men. They are the dreams of children playing with boats on a pond. To shallow to drown to dumb to live. I give it all for you. For you I burn the embers.