The Poem

I am he who gently caresses you without a touch
the one that to your ears whispers words of love
I am he who writes of you and me, who writes of us
the one that slithers into your heart when you fall apart

     I am he who makes you want to dream about tomorrow
     the one that with only a look understands your sorrow
     I am he who feels your pain and dries your hidden tears
     the one that holds your hand and knows your deepest fears

I am he who writes of times and places your soul hungers to be
the ocean in the desert, the mirage your eyes thirst to see
I am he who searches the lost path your feet dare not walk
the laments of unheard voices who long ago ceased to talk

     I am the flame in the darkness that will forever burn
     the remembrance of moments that will never return
     I am the one who teaches what cold hearts cannot learn
     the unread page that even the wind neglected to turn

I am the lost dream seeking my dreamer - wake me not
the drop-of-dew on the petal of the rose that time forgot
I am the one that embraces and consoles your loneliness
the river of hope that comes flowing to fill your emptiness

     I am the candle in the night that reflects your inner-light
     life's kaleidoscope of joy and pain, snow and freezing rain
     for I can feel your heart and conquer your strife
     for I am: the blood of a poet - who was once alive

Marco '94

Je suis, donc je rêve