Light Showers

Eternity

Bees aglint with tawny sweetness,
Strong as sour, dark as gold,
Floating in the honeyed air-light-
Purring decades, bumble-old.

Time eclyptic, warm as syrup,
Light as skeins of tissue-silk,
Soft unwinding, slipping floorward,
Intimate as trickling milk.

Shades as pale as cream and ivory,
Folds of fabric mute and clear,
Faint cretonne of ecrue curtains
Hanging warm and wondrous-sheer.

There above a floorless aeon,
There behind a waiting throne,
Somewhere in the timeless present
Hover bees that hum and drone.

NOTE: This poem came to me in a dream in which I wrote it out by hand, and I awakened with a vivid memory of the imagery, the mood, and some of the exact words. I promptly reconstructed it as accurately as I could, and I believe that this version is very close to the original.

Sigmund Freud insisted that people can't write anything in their dreams, but he was mistaken. Long after I wrote "Eternity," I dreamed that while I was setting a table for dinner I spontaneously invented a light-verse couplet. I stopped setting the table and laughed so hard that I woke myself up and wrote down the verse:

Some people use tobacco-stuff;
I don't, 'cause I'm not up to snuff.

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