Page:Ephemera, Greek prose poems (IA ephemeragreek00buckrich).pdf/66



Through the echoing silences of the night, beneath the star-paled arches of the sky, I lifted up my voice and sang of love.

I sang of pain, of happiness and the long hours of waiting; of revelation and eternal mystery; hot longing, quivering silence and a lustral calm. I sang and smiled and wept, my voice floating above the slumbering city, mine eyes turned toward the shadowy desert.

Alone, I sang No voice replied, whispering through the dusk, no heart warmed in a swift response, no lips sought mine to drink their song. Only the soft caress of the night wind touched me for an instant and then passed on toward the sandy wastes.