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COUNTING Liesbeth List (The Netherlands) Now is the glimmering, spinning, beginning, of something Ive prayed for and counted the minutes, to be in the shadow of sheltering meadows of night, with you in my arms. This is the moment that poses to hold us, as you and I move, in a background of wonder, surrounded by countesses and closures of nocturne and spoken music of joy. Counting times, I have stood at the foot of your ivory tower and weeped and called out your name by the hour and counted on wings of my heart-strings, to carry this sound. I have counted on pleading, youd see how I need you, come down. And now between twilight and midnight you came to me, down in your gown of soft moonbeams and starlight. Bright as the evening that breezes has fenced us and mastered against us : youre here. And warm and mine, till the time when the dawn will awake me, the morning will shake me, the highway will take me. But now will the rains of the moon make me gaze. We will swim in the lustre of lingering streetlights and count on the night to hold everything even and count on forgetting that I will be leaving, when heaven has folded and then in the dawn, Ill be gone. But now as the gardens of softening night-time are blossoming slowly around where we are, you and I came together and walked through the dreams of the stars. So, here where the sun of the deepening evening is singing to me from the light in your eyes, we can count on eachother to move to the beach of tomorrow and know where weve been.

    


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