In my mind’s eye I see
A maiden standing on a cliff-side by the sea,
Looking down and her hair blowing free,
Looking down into the black deep
Where reflected are the tears I weep
But lo! No tears are they
But stars of a night in May;
One might venture and ask-
What is this maiden’s task?
Is she the guardian of the past,
Preserving the days that cannot last?

From my outside balcony I peer
Trying to reach what isn’t near;
I ponder what all this can mean
And if the heaven’s lights were meant to be seen-
Like time capsules they save what I think,
Looking down with a knowing wink
And still that maiden teeters on the brink-
Pray she may not fall into that dark abyss,
Sealed with yesterday’s midnight kiss;
She reads my memories like a book,
Carefully opened, waiting for her to look-
Is she the guardian of the past,
Preserving the days that cannot last?