Abundance is voices blended in close harmony.
Soft in the light of somewhere nice
I dream and listen but give no voice;
Slow swirls of movement I feel like twirls
Of dancing playing once-little girls,
In white 'neath a shower of wedding rice
Slow tinkling-jingling music box chime
Like an almost forgotten nursery rhyme,
I hear it again, pause and turn my ear
To find the faint sound I think I hear —
A distant metronome ticking out time.
Murmurs of voices of unknown people
Lifting, falling, most unrecognizable
Shadows lengthening, sliding, dancing with light
Into the evening and fast falling night;
I dream inside late afternoon's satin bubble.
Soft in the come and go of light —
Soft in the light, I dream.