And a dream still dawning
Is all it takes for happiness,
Or for dreaming of happiness
Trapped somewhere in there
In those fickle sparks.
A few steps out the door
Ancient stone steps, scented air:
A night in the south is a night never happened
A night in the south is the night someone else
Is drinking to.
And a love upcoming
Is all it takes for peace of mind.
And it is so simple:
The metaphor of wine, for it stands either for blood (a classic)
Or the universe, in the dark.
Never ourselves, never living –
A bloody paradox in a glass,
If only all were so simple!
If only I were those sparks!
Love upcoming, love gone over,
We’re all moving towards the drop.
The glass is slipping, the glass tips over,
And the drops now another metaphor, if you want.
And a future dreaming
Seems more real than the future lived.
We might all love drinking
But we only ever get to taste
The same wine once.
I am slowly fleeting
Losing grip of the wine glass –