Atlas

Rum for two, my dear
In this dark cafe

Raindrops that wash the Himalayas
Come and clean me, too
So I can hold you close, my dear

Drifting harmonies coalesce...
Tar-stained fingers bend the strings,
As if they once read the face of the wind,
And were haunted by what they saw

The sun is setting behind the palms
As we cuddle in this rattan cove we found
Along a narrow street, inside this lonely oasis

I trace the laugh lines of your eyes
As we sip our drinks, gazing out into the auburn tide
When mountains roar in their dreams,
And birds snuggle their young close beside them

Candlelit sconces throw an antique globe into relief,
Creating a new topography of shifting lands,
Of unknown boundaries, of desolate plateaus
Where falcons soar over chiaroscuro flood plains,

If you gaze into the knife edge of sunset,
You might see the eyes of a Bedouin staring back at you;
Deep pools of light, honed by the leagues
Of empty wilderness they've seen...

As though they too, saw the face of the wind
And were blinded.