I dreamt of you dancing on the mountain top,
You wore the long flowing cheesecloth of youth,
You whirled a Dervish, joyous laughter swam
In my head, like a mantra swirling
In a prayer wheel.
As you spun your flowing skirts and veils,
Became feathered wings and your laugh
A plaintive call of our sacred bird…
You took to your shamanic form,
And burst the sky with your thermal wheel.
Your buzzard form was so enticing,
The call was a beckoning,
I yearned to follow, my soul sought flight,
You swooped lower, your song louder,
And as I reached to jump off
I realised it wasn’t you.
I heard your male voice
call from behind…
So far back, it’s Russian timbre was redolent,
Of previous suffering,
“Stay my beloved, Tanya is still inside you.”
So many lifetimes.
So many mistakes.
All for love,
Always for love.