Reflections In A Crystal Wind

if there's a way to say i'm sorry, perhaps i'll stay another evening beside your door, and watch the moon rise inside your window, where jewels are falling, and flowers weeping, and strangers laughing, because you're dreaming that i have gone.
and if i don't know why i am going, perhaps i'll wait beside the pathway where no one is coming and count the questions i turned away from, or closed my eyes to, or had no time for, or passed right over, because the answers would shame my pride.
i've heard them say the word "forever" but i don't know if words have meaning when they are used in fear of losing what can't be borrowed, or lent in blindness, or blessed by pageantry, or sold by preachers, while you're still walking your separate ways.
sometimes we bind ourselves together, and seldom know the harm in binding the only feeling that cries for freedom, and needs unfolding, and understanding, and time for holding a simple mirror with one reflection to call your own.
if there's an end to all our dreaming, perhaps i'll go while you're still standing beside your door, and i'll remember your hands encircling a bowl of moonstones, a lamp of childhood, a robe of roses, because your sorrows were still unborn.
--richard and mimi farina (reflections in a crystal wind)