Dawn

Dawn breaks at my window,
I lie weighing the silent minutes,
Thinking of you,
Thinking that your innocence and simplicity
Have been the Ariadne thread to the labyrinth heart.

At church I pray God and the saints, to purify my soul;
In vain; the only word which comes to mind
Is your name,
The only image which recurs, obsessing, overwhelming all,
Is that of your eyes, pale blue sea where I sail
My dreams,
And your soft scented hair is the dark forest
That ever throws my world out of its course.

Then Summer runs in my veins
And the thought of your glowing lips
Weighs upon my mind
Like a warm day in June.

By Joseph Chiari