What Am I

I pause and listen To your distant lonely call. Long and low it pushes Through the stillness of The early morning air To trumpet your arrival. A disturbance to the sunrise That is waking here. It whispers to the ear That knows your song. An announcement, an invitation To meet you at the crossing Where flashing lights, like soldiers Make us bow. And colored arms, like sabers Fall from attention To protect your call. Twelve –hundred horses’ nostrils flare, Huff and puff their acrid air. Steel shoes clatter as they rumble Along your private path. Your wealth follows on carts That rattle as they roll. A strand of pearls That speaks a message From a place I’ll never know. Cyrillic and artistic, Sung as love notes from a lark. A serenade to caress you as you slept. Sung by men who joined the caravan And later disembarked. I feel compelled to count them Then their romance sings A rainbow to my heart. Each message is a picture Drawn by men that love you As a colored canvas Waving with the wind. And when you pass, My world is still again.