Words on a Clothesline

 

To listen to the audio file, Click and Open the link below:

 https://suno.com/s/zhKRsb4Gm9RqKy0D

 By Jean Louis Mondon

 

Words on a clothesline, hanging in the wind
Words and notes on a threshold across
Connections of the heart
Flying on wings unfolding
Collections lulled by melodies hanging
Between trees grounded in the earth
Priming emotions to feel moved
Hoping for one more encounter

As a sail that fades sadly
In the dawn of her destiny
As a train in a station
As a train in late motion
As a train that crawls away
The witness of our tears clouds
The sound of the falling night

Marking the beats of your heart
Metronome just on time
In your dreams weaving hope
Between silence and sotto voce
Your noble silk chords vibrate
In mine, the echo chambers resonate

The quiet of your soul
Fans the flame
That softly reveals
The grace of the Lord

The enticing desert mirage
Cradles this flower blooming
In my dazzled heart
At the dawn of night
Shadowing its light image
Through the windows of your being

The past as a preface
With our torn, missing pages
In the present interlace
Between you and me… spaces
The gaps are filled and sealed

And a bridge, a ladder
Built against adversity
Teaches us to walk closer
Together on the right side
On the bright side

Behold, the mystery
Revealed, embraced
As you see, this time
Between you, between me
It´s the end of turmoil
The distance between us
Cannot grow wider than the soil
Love will allow it to go

For love is the shortest of distances
Between our gazing eyes, accomplices lost
In the vastness of wonderment
Revealed in the deep silence
Of growing intermingling roots
Covering each other
With ineffable sighs
In the hope of one more encounter

                                   _________________ 

 Author´s Note 

 Brazilians have a delightfully creative tradition that I have come to appreciate and enjoy. In the photo above, you can see pages of paper hanging from a clothesline, in Portuguese called "varal de roupas". Because of the prevailing warm weather, one can see clothes dancing in the wind in all the backyards. Tradition from the old European and African countries such as Italy, Southern France, Portugal, Spain and my home country of Algeria. Everywhere in cities and village for school poetry contests, at a country fair or a cultural presentation, works of art or poems are on display for all to enjoy. I hope that you enjoy this poem and that you too will dream of what can happen when you let the wind of the Spirit take you where He wills.