Fallen from grace of shining star,
Awash in troubles and rambles,
I stumbled, lonely and bizarre,
Upon a castle in shambles.

Raised from the mossy stony floor,
A wizard, shrewd and waking,
Inviting strangers to explore
What's numinous and taking.

He led me to the greyish wall
With darkened somber painting,
His candle flickered, weak and tall
His shadow worn and waiting.

Beyond the heavy ancient dust
From other worlds and bounds,
From fusing image of the past
To present realms and grounds,

He smiled at me, a proud Knight,
The Universe's specter,
Filled with the vigor and delight,
Of destitute protector.

A waft of air, subdued and light,
Brought me a tender whisper:
"I love you, Princess" . . . "Love you, Knight"
It echoed in the distance . . .

On the verge of spring,
On the brink of ray
I'll become a wing
Breathless when you pray.

It will soar to height,
It will touch the brim
Of the morning's light
Seized by darkness' rim.

We will sing in heat
A tune we used to hum.
We will dance to beat
Of a native drum.

We will find a pearl
In grain of sand,
Turned to pinkish whirl
By magician's hand.

You will throw the dice,
You will win the game.
From the cube of ice
You will start your flame.

You will come to see
A hundred other dawns
By the calming sea,
By the lake of swans.

On your daily rite
You'll forget this dream:
Neither wrong, nor right,
Only fading gleam.

On the verge of spring
Washed in dazzling blue
I became a wing,
Cloaked in clouds and flew . . .