THE SPACE UNDER THE WINDOW

    The space upon your pillow holds your head
    It sleeps in wrinkled rivers in your bed
    These rivers flowing through the empty space
    Meander down their valleys to a sea-
    So down a whirlpool the sheets unlace
    And fall as rain upon a willow tree

    The willow's roots search through the dampened ground
    And deep below tell no one what they've found
    And in the willow's store of worms and bone
    And lost among the bottles, coins, and all
    A tendril of a root has found some stone
    And through a crack within, it finds a hall

    For in this hall of stone there lies a sword
    That holds the secrets of the souls it gored
    The silver of the blade shines through the blood
    And lights the passage with its ancient gleam-
    And water drips through cracks and turns to mud
    When dust upon the floor meets with the stream.

    The muddy stream flows down the marbled floor
    Far down the cavern till it finds a door
    And crawls into a room that once was known
    By all the world that listened to a king
    (Whose skeleton still sits upon a throne
    And on his whitened hand is worn a ring)

    The ring is made of gold and ivory
    And shows a picture of the willow tree
    The dwarves that made the ring are ever gone
    And never told the king that magic lay
    Inside the scene that one might gaze upon
    As this king gazes, since his dying day

    For futures lie within this magic ring
    (And as you see, so sees the buried king)
    And looking on the king there is a cat
    Who somehow found his way into this tomb
    His yellow slowly blinking eyes stare at
    The king who sits amid majestic gloom

    A cat may look upon a king ye know
    And as the saying keeps, he deems it so
    The cat is dark as blackened candle wicks
    His eyes are blazing like the candles' flame
    Ignoring death, he casually licks,
    And though no soul has told, you know his name

    For every now and then this cat gets bored
    And travels down the hallway past the sword
    And through a rusted gate, and grassy fields,
    Beyond the willow, over many hills

    And so within your house your dreaming yields: -
    An empty space beneath your window fills

                  JWC (for Iggy)


                  J W Cooper
                  March 1997
                  Copyright © John W. Cooper