Mating Time

Life’s pearls stun every glory, as moulded we
Beget our own individual pulse, to thrust
Our endeavour into, to gaze upon fireflies
Dreaming that we may communicate in the same way
With ciphered telepathy, as birds on the wing,
Instinctively to the correct mate, to land on a holy branch.

The goldfinch reels into the spring air, rhythm
In tandem with the wafting trees, Cleopatra
Fanned invisible in their boughs, cradled and nurtured
In a dream, waiting for her Antony, her completing fire,
Scorched by their love, the melancholy flee,
And each to its mate goes, and time passes by.