A Dance Unseen

The rain which fell
before dawn broke
made music on the ground
to which my hopes, unseen,
danced a reassuring dance.

But I was blind
with troubled dreams,
awake but not awake
and most certainly mad,

so I sat on a little rock,
and made a song
to defy all things that
lived and laughed and loved,
because I did not.

And what did heaven send
to soothe my restless spirit?

A sprite?
Some demon foul?
Some fey, pale-skinned children
singing nursery rhymes to mock
my sudden plight?

No, it was thunder and rain;
a storm to drown my curses:
and so, defiant still,
I cursed my agony
and vowed never
to love, to laugh, to live.

But when morning came,
the owls still watched
from receding shadows
without a hoot or cry,
while I,
unrepentant in my creed,
took book and bag
and left my little rock.

"Didn't you see that heaven
wept with you?" they asked,
but I did not care.

"Haven't you found the footprints
from the dance of
resurrecting dreams?" they asked again,
but I did not care.

Yet through the frost that clouded
breast and bone,
I felt a warm embrace,
and tomorrow smiled today