Am not afraid of outer space.
I trudge through ice whilst you’re dreaming behind curtains.
Let’s join our minds and bridge our worlds.
Was it morning or just twilight?
I retraced steps after high tides, crystallised us in last snowflakes;
walked to the edge of our garden, where each wave meets & melts our sun…
Mes pas, tes pas dans les nuages.
If I could slide like a spider across oceans,
I’d weave my way where you belong – find a corner inside your song,
hang all my dreams on meridians, watch your moonrise at earth level.
There, above black, twinning my heart with latitudes;
echoing sounds I sometimes hear in clement sky,
and feel your hands in arpeggios…
I ken du’s here,
I heard the wind calling your name.
“mes pas, tes pas dans les nuages…” = “your and my steps among our clouds”
© Nat Hall 2008