Lightly down the garden path at dawn.
And blows kisses to birds as she glances
Upward into the sweetly brightening sky
That unfolds like peach silk curtains
For the soft-hearted sun to waken by.
Sometimes she smiles imperceptibly
At the corners of her rose-colored lips
When white rose petals detach ceremonially
And in faith surrender to gravity's call.
Sometimes she hovers over ivory keys
Like a gypsy pensive before her crystal ball.
And the future is music, the kind that frees
The soul from the body like the leaves that fall.
Sometimes monsters wear masks.
A heart divided can only beat against itself.