Deal with Ideal

       Do you remember
       when it was?
       Do you remember?
       I feel despair of past which grows
       in rainy slow September.

I have a sense I'm not the one
Who looks for flashing thing.
World is the cup of ancient wine -
The time I have to drink.

Oh, what a stopples appetite,
Without a will to wait,
Absorbing like a hungry tide
In soft and gentle fade.

Remember - may be me is you -
I just don't know what this thing tells.
It seems we're meeting in the youth,
You were my friend or someone else.

I'm crying out: Let's make a deal -
Give us a silent fever
And make us calm like blade of steel
And deep like wide slow river.

I know the thing attracts me most
In seeming ordinary pages:
I think the author of it must
Be soft mad poet in the ages.

I try to pray: Give us a grain,
Which anyway will make the gain,
Give us a reason, which will grow -
No matter if it will be slow.

I believe it's real -
The deal with Ideal.
       25.10.00