The Maiden of the Forest

  
The Maiden of the Forest
     
I had seen a lissome maiden
In a forest, so it seemed…
She was dancing, like a fairy.
Was she real or was she dreamed?

A maiden of the forest,
Of an old, forgotten tribe –
She was dancing in abandon,
Yet with grace I can’t describe.

She was dancing in the forest,
In the shade beneath the trees.
She was dancing in the shadows
That were dappled by the breeze.

Had I seen her in my dreaming,
In the darkness, when asleep?
Had I seen her in the daylight?
That’s a secret I shall keep.

For the things that I remember
Are that maiden and her dance.
Does it matter, where that forest?
Was it China, India, France?

If I knew, I wouldn’t tell you
Or my closest, bosom friend.
For I fear, if it’s discovered,
That an innocence will end…

She was dancing in the forest,
As they rustled in the breeze –
The leaves, that cast their shadows
On the ground beneath the trees.

And her feet were lightly tripping
On that dappled forest floor,
As I stood there, mutely watching
And not wanting less or more.

So I stood there, and I watched her,
As she swayed and as she spun –
As she danced across the shadows
And the shafts of slanting sun…

The sun was on her skin and hair,
On her shoulders, breasts and thighs…
It caught the gestures of her hands
And it glinted from her eyes…

But the darkness, it was nestled
At the joins of arms and thighs,
And her eyes and hair were darkness –
They were dark, like starry skies…

I had stood and I had watched her,
For what seemed to be a while.
Then she vanished, and I wondered
If I’d seen her look and smile…

There are angels, from the heavens,
Some declare that they have seen.
I have never seen an angel,
But that vision, I have seen.

Of that vision, that I saw once,
In a dream – or in the day,
I have given a description.
Imagine it, you may…

But the place, in which I saw her,
Even though I knew it well,
For a treasure, or in torture,
Is a thing I wouldn’t tell.

2014 April 18th, Fri.
Brooklyn, New York