Which city does the emerald river flow
Where flowers dance in secret sacred shapes?
Symbolic eyes forgotten long ago,
Its palace mystery singing to the Fates.
The grand old river swells the earthen banks.
The deep wood’s breath is like a lover’s song.
Its mystic water rises where love sank.
We hold on floating down where we belong.
The waters deep each morning fill the Sun.
An orange glow that fills our eyes and hearts.
The moonlight shimmers where our souls should run.
These circles light the spaces where love starts.
I dream the day when she will turn and say
Joy streaming from her eye, “You finally came.”