Shadows and Echoes

Trees built this room.  Old trees.
There are diamonds and sapphires
and white zircons in this room.

There are soft furs of mink and leopard,
rabbit, sheep and fox.
There are histories of ancient empires
in this room.

There are rare books and antique scrolls,
lining a wall strewn with paintings and drawings and collage,
gold be-framed and not, photos staring at me

oddly familiar faces, next to dusty mirrors
where glimpses of fairies may be seen
behind old lace draped along the tops.

Old friends and new are here
waiting and dreaming.
My mothers voice lingers...
turned into many echoes of favorite ancestors.

Shadows of my father dance quietly
behind the porcelain stones
and bright roses.

All brothers linger here,
some posing as sisters,
some pretending to be themselves...
a fitting projection.

I linger among shadows,
listening to echoes,
awaiting the children's homecoming.

I will remain in my room, waiting.
Candlefire and the rustling of feathers
echo the leaves and leave their shadows dancing.

-Jehanah - December 19 2000 -