Bridges to the Arsenal

 I've seen the low sun

        nodding into the night

        across the water

I've seen the saints gathered

        for one last laugh

      before turning into light

I’ve heard Vivaldi

       snapping his fingers   

        as he danced a jig

        in the Campo Manin

        the echoes of revelry

        pouring through a labyrinth

        illuminated by a thousand shadows

        every golden tile

        winking at the awe of strangers

We have been invited by ghosts

        to listen to the heartbeat

        of Byzantium

to witness the coming

        of the flood

to walk into the life

        of the past

to see the splendor of imagination

to bow to the winged lion

        about to launch himself

        into the skies

        above a fleet of violins

to inhale the sea and a city

          at the same time

to feel the polished marble

        where fantastic humans

        laid their hands

        a thousand years ago

to climb the stairs

        of a bell tower

        fashioned by a man

        with a multitude of heads

to stop in an alley

        where a troll lives

        in perfect happiness

to find a statue of myself

        at the end of a long walk

        through a tunnel to nowhere

to be kissed by an angel

        when all is lost

to find another stairway

        to some perfect place

        with a window

        overlooking the world itself

to pursue beauty and mystery

        over bridges and water

       through ancient streets

        without end or purpose

to be alive in a maze

        filled with spirits

        who peer at you

        from niches in the walls

        and make no sound at all

to struggle with the lives of artists

        who gave everything

         to decorate the ceilings of rooms

to be an ingredient

        in the European stew

        and wonder who will taste you

        and where you will end up

to be a remnant of yourself

        walking across the pages

        of a history you never knew

to see space and walls

        for the first time

to collect the outer edges of yourself

        in one grand sweep

to look into the haunted houses

        of your mind

to believe once and for all

        that fantasy does exist

to go into the bowels of civilization

        and emerge steaming

I want to take one of those boats

        to a mysterious palace

I want to emerge

        on the waterworn steps

        of an Arabesque place

        where a princess from Arbagoogoo

        lives with a host of devoted courtiers

I want to hear that final

        ring of your bells

        in the middle of the night

I want to know

        how you toiled and played

        how long you looked in your mirrors

how you became elements

        nurtured by the contemplation

         of forms

how you found the world

        standing in one square

        and brought it to you

how you  built these monuments

        to your incredible ego

how you became so tastefully mad

how you conquered the world

        in your own way

how you sang and danced yourself

        into oblivion

I want to know why

        you die so gracefully

        without complaint

        too wise to think

        that you are anything but human.