Meet me in a shadow land of quiet. Speak to me of loving. But speak low to me - in a whisper. Whispers open magical doors if you let them - Opening to hidden rooms full of color - In shades like Marc Chagall.
These days, everybody speaks of love so loud. They shout, as if love were something owed them - Like something they can order around - Like something that comes when called.
Let your body fall away in quiet, Knowing loving grows over time, like a tree in the forest. Your face is as lovely as sleep - faint with stillness. I can smell the summer there in your tangled hair. It folds me in a dream.
The reverie of silence - here in the hidden constellation - Joining the twilight sky, like starry bright - We're soaring over everything, like birds in flight, Into the quiet night.