Sands of Time

I am a storyteller.

I sit by the fire

With the night at my back

And wait for you to come.

I am a storyteller.

One by one you draw near

And sit down in the shadows

Silently

To wait

For the weaving of words.

I am a storyteller.

I paint pictures in your head

Which dance and spin and live

And change the world into mirrored glass.

I am a storyteller.

I conjure the sea

And juggle the stars.

I deal the cards

I cut the pack.

And captive, with a shiver,

You glance over your shoulder

Into the night.

I am a storyteller.

I hold the strings in my hand.

I command your tears and I let you laugh

And you hold your breath as I weave my

tale.

I am a storyteller.

Silent. Alone, I watch others play.

From the shadows

I peer into warm lighted windows

Unnoticed. Outside. On my own.

I am a storyteller.

I hold the reins.

I knit with emotion

At the foot of the blade.

Splashed by your blood

I tell them your history.

Then I turn back again

Into anonymity and silence.

I am a storyteller.

You must listen with care.

I can banish your boredom

And teach you to listen.

But when I finish

I will no longer be there.

I am a storyteller.

When the fire flames die

At last I am quiet.

You go back to your houses;

To the lights and the noise.

And I fade back

Into the dark.