Chasing Her Bright Spirit

Chasing Her Bright Spirit
© Surazeus
2016 10 18

Just at that moment, when the full moon shone
bright silver rays of weird transcendent glamor
through tangled lattice of leafless tree limbs,
her aquiline face and soul piercing eyes
emerged from gloom in flash of sharp relief,
illuminated clear like marble statue
of graceful Artemis that stands alone
in ancient temple on high mountain slope
where once in evenings long ago we danced
heart to heart in heat of passionate love.

I reach out trembling hand to touch her soul
and feel cold stone of skin taut over bone
that frames the solid world of hopeless faith
for resurrection of her life from death
who snatched her spirit from her fevered flesh
and left her body rotting in foul swamp,
but then I kneel before bright silent moon
and whisper her name with sweet agony
of longing for quick flash of laughing joy
which animated her exotic face.

No other woman on this spinning world
in all the tumbling history of mankind
will ever match the beauty of her soul
that beamed in gestures of her hands and eyes
from graceful elegance of her lithe form,
for she embodied with her speech and actions
divine perfection through kind character
of selfless service to every sad person
who suffered disease or hungry despair
when her hands offered fruit from her rich heart.

I chase her bright spirit through moonlit woods
and pause by ancient oak on river shore
to listen for melody of her voice
that sings haunting spell to enchant my heart,
then leap again through mist of abysmal gloom
so I may wrap my arms around her waist
and kiss her lips with ecstasy of trust,
thus when I wake at dawn I find myself
embracing young mare with long flowing mane
whose eyes gleam as she eats apple I give.