Fanfare For The Silent Man - 4

dawn

a hesitant flame crackles at
the bottom of the wall
that stretches from this end to the
end of the other hall

an easterly gust of breeze
with fetid sacred smells
carries home tinkling of
the tarnished copper bells

the flickering flame found second life
passionately burns
two shivering souls warm their bones
taking second turns

cutting through the swarthy din
a ray of multi-hue
the writer and the poet and
the painter to rescue

words spill out, images flash
a conundrum is spun
lines are drawn, battles lost
bigger wars are won

sweet repose, a moment’s rest
subdued and solemn mood
chaotic thoughts, tumbling forth
illogical intrude

arms entwined in a tender clasp
two souls one whole again
open minds, shut the eyes
block out all the pain

go off to sleep deep in the arms
to the beating of the heart
in rhythm with the coming of
another hopeful start

the rooster crows at the crack of dawn
gets its wattle wet
scooting chicks by mother hen
another day might let

a flash of sun, yellow bright
beneath the green of tree
conversing with the brown and red and
other colors three

so many thoughts the noises make
it difficult to scan
these straining words, its time to ring
a fanfare for the silent man