Over the rooftop, under the moon,
I fly in a dream, in my silvered room;
The cover of night has been pulled away,
And I move in sleep toward a different day.
Over the rooftop, under the moon,
The day will not be arriving soon;
Everything quiet, and still as a world
With a hidden lock, god has not unfurled.
Over the rooftop, under the moon,
In a secret place, like a moonlit ruin,
There's magic and wonder, come dawn of day
From a deepness, where the soul must stray.
Over the rooftop, under the moon,
I wait all day in a soundless tune;
I wait till the special hour comes around:
The sun is sinking and gone quite down.
Over the rooftop, under the moon,
I smile in darkness, where stars are strewn,
The universe open, like a great book;
There's hours and hours, just to look.
Over the rooftop, under the moon,
Night arrives like a soft cocoon,
With starry eyes, to see you through,
And dreams enough, to fill the blue.
Hi Patti, once upon a time I used to translate your brilliant poems into Russian, this one to be translated too. I like your poems if they are rhythmed and rhymed. Moved to Clovis, CA, this summer. With best regards, Paul Kallen