Questions Before Sleep

Should I insert myself into your story? Stephane Mallarme I wonder, should I insert myself into your story? Should I look for an opening big enough for me to slip through, but not big enough for you to notice? This already has the appearance of a plan, even of a fait accompli? But, no! I am still in the field of the imagination, where flowers, streams and warmth will distract me from intruding. Instead I will listen hard to the speech of your hands, your eyes, your subdued motions. These aspects speak without speech. If only they are prompt, for I am like a lonely soul in an empty house, beseiged by winds, hail and blinding lightning. Should I return to myself, examine my desires instead of indulging in these dreams of you? Who are you really whose presence disturbs me whether I wake or sleep? To whom do I appeal? To one of flesh and blood existence, like mine? Or to the figure of my Muse? Or to a character in literature my imaginatiion has animated with stirring liveliness? Whatever you are, are you a fixture in my life, or are you just a transient ghost who mimics what I love? If you are angry, I withdraw; if you are pleased, I am bold. Do I have this right? Will you signal the right path for me to follow? If it is an outdoor labyrinth, will you be waiting at the center? Will you protect me from harm, if it - ? Can we reverse our roles? Can I be the one who summons, who makes an alien neighborhood as welcoming as home? Does the depth of silence between us mean the roles will never be exchanged? Will I always be waiting to fight a battle with cowardly followers? Will even my enemy's surrender leave me confused? Will the crown slip from my head and sink into the mud? Will such ever be my share of fate? But I perceive you in glory: I trust the moonlight, in which you stand poised and smiling. I have faith in the daylight covering you in gorgeous colors. I look through your eyes and see a green world shining toward its future. I listen to a strange cosmic music with your ears and I am attuned to an everlasting harmony. Questions cease, and a single answer waits to enter my sleep.