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The Woman By The Stream

t seems I've gazed so long
upon the woman by the stream,

and stood along her fleeting path
like standing in a dream.

When mist and Sun converge at dawn,
she dances as she nears,

and only then, I'll catch a glimpse
before she disappears.

An ageless face, a flowing gown,
a sound is never heard;

without the slightest utterance,
no, not a single word!

So taken by her hair and garb
as though from centuries past,

perhaps she walked this way the day
that came to be her last.

Alas, I'll keep returning here
to watch this lovely mime,

forever, or until she fades,
this vision caught in time.


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