by Rolando A. Carbonell
You alone, beloved, can teach me to measure the memory of a
song… No one knows to what ecstasy my heart will soar. The gentleness in your
smile is enough to touch the tenderness in my heart. In the secret page of my
life is written a story… never to be forgotten. For all the silent records this
vessel holds contain the memory of you.
Come, then, beloved and sing with me the songs so sweet.
Burn my soul with the magic jewel of your song that I may awaken form the
darkness of this world to view the blossoming of the stars. And there is any
power greater than love? Speak down beloved, speak. Give to me the essence of
your love, and the slumbering poems in this dark universe will blazon anew;
swelling like waves upon the blossom of a hungry shore.
Because you and I shall sing, heaven itself will quiver with
a burst of song. And the morning will greet us with a glow to open the
flowering of a new tune. No one else but you can still the throbbing, sobbing,
murmuring voice within. No one. For you alone, can reach the silent stretches
of my soul. You alone…
Without you, beloved, what joy will there be in a song?
Without the embraces of your love—what use is the beauty of the morn? Without
the promise of your kiss, what delight is there in the fragrance of a rose?
Without you, my love, memory itself will lose the beauty of its touch…
Come then, my dear,
Like a flower,
Like a song,
Like a dream…
And I shall write the forgotten poems of many days you
secretly left in my soil. In every line I shall scribble the many thoughts this
soaring mind holds envelope the memory of your youth scattered by the winds.
You alone can make a miracle out of a song…
You alone can transform this poem into a prayer…
You alone can make me feel the breath of life again.
You alone
Copyright © 2011 by J. Estoque
All Rights Reserved
