By Mark Robinson adrias@texas.net
Date: 23 September 1997

The Depth of Your Impression

How my heart leaps at the sound
of your voice.
How my soul soars
whenever I see your face.
And once I thought man could not fly;
yet here I am above the clouds,
thinking of you.
Thinking of the moonlight
sparkling in your gentle eyes,
of the sunlight caressing
your radiant skin,
as my spirit wanders the
boundless depths of your image.
The world knows no colors 
such as those I see in you.
Its laughter: the timid mewling of a kitten
before the roar of the waterfall
that is our mirth.
How strange it is then
that in the silence of your absence,
I do not curse the pale plainness
of the chamber in which I dwell.
But instead, muse at the impact
you have made on me.
And with boyish glee,
wait to fly once more.