Where Has She Gone?

There is this lady,
she comes to me in my dreams
Wispy of hair and ephemeral of body,
I know not why she appears

Throwing caution to the wind,
I respond to her presence
But it isn’t I for whom her attention calls
It is another who I cannot sense.

Looking deeper in the shaded eve,
I see the cliff on which she stands
Her toes cling tightly to the gravel edge
the wringing of her delicate hands.

In the whistle of the wind
and the fragrance of the summer air
I feel her yearning for the missing soul
The hidden one, the other presence there

Despite my muffled cries,
her body arches back
and gracefully over chasm edge
her ghostly figure does track.

Before the fall reaches its terrible end
Her frail body does dissipate
Dispersing on the evening breeze
Returning me to my waking state

Now quiet have my dreamings been
without my ghostly waif
Where has she gone, this ethereal being
and was she ever safe?