Questions Before Sleep Poem by Daniel Brick

Should I insert myself into your story?
Stephane Mallarme

I wonder, should I insert myself
into your story? Should I look for
an opening big enough for me
to slip through, but not big enough
for you to notice? This already has
the appearance of a plan, even of
a fait accompli? But, no! I am still
in the field of the imagination,
where flowers, streams and warmth
will distract me from intruding.
Instead I will listen hard to the speech
of your hands, your eyes, your subdued
motions. These aspects speak without
speech. If only they are prompt, for
I am like a lonely soul in an empty house,
beseiged by winds, hail and blinding lightning.

Should I return to myself, examine my desires
instead of indulging in these dreams of you?
Who are you really whose presence disturbs me
whether I wake or sleep? To whom do I appeal?
To one of flesh and blood existence, like mine?
Or to the figure of my Muse? Or to a character
in literature my imaginatiion has animated
with stirring liveliness? Whatever you are,
are you a fixture in my life, or are you just
a transient ghost who mimics what I love?
If you are angry, I withdraw; if you are pleased,
I am bold. Do I have this right? Will you signal
the right path for me to follow? If it is an outdoor
labyrinth, will you be waiting at the center?
Will you protect me from harm, if it - ?

Can we reverse our roles? Can I be the one
who summons, who makes an alien neighborhood
as welcoming as home? Does the depth of silence
between us mean the roles will never be exchanged?
Will I always be waiting to fight a battle
with cowardly followers? Will even my enemy's
surrender leave me confused? Will the crown
slip from my head and sink into the mud? Will such
ever be my share of fate? But I perceive you in glory:
I trust the moonlight, in which you stand poised
and smiling. I have faith in the daylight covering
you in gorgeous colors. I look through your eyes
and see a green world shining toward its future.
I listen to a strange cosmic music with your ears
and I am attuned to an everlasting harmony. Questions
cease, and a single answer waits to enter my sleep.