Magician's Wife

Every step is a prayer,
every breath, every tear.
Where once words were,

John Bauer

are now only withered flowers,
where fire was,
numb emptiness.
My little joy,
I knew you were like a dancer:
when not dancing,
just a nameless passerby in the snow.

Now we are fighting fate,
destiny, fighting time,
fighting to remember your voice,
to love every second;

fighting to hold your hand
through dimensions, eternities
to recognize the imprint of your soul
through lifetimes,
through the deep sleep and dream of perception.