Coronation Postponed

I dreamed last night we were ready for the crowning of a king
We sat, silent and shivering, in a cathedral's massive bowel
Expecting the roar of a thousand voices, for a country's bells to ring
For a land to emerge shining from winter's snowy cowl
And burst, still thawing, into a summer drenched with wine
Giddy with love, trembling beneath dancing, bell-clad feet
When even deep into night the sun would shine
Above the wick of candles and lanterns' moth-enchanting heat
Where couples writhe in the grass, drunk on the scent of eachother's hair
On the warmth of eachother's cheeks, the addiction of eachother's lips
Hands clasped together, wading through syrup-like air
Swimming with pollen, spiralling as warm currents rip
But we sat and sat, hearing only the mournful wind and an echoing creak
As the great doors opened, admitting instead of a king
A whirlwind of bone-dry leaves, instead of a sleek
Golden procession of power, only a scent on the wing
Of a tired breeze, mindful of past summer
Of grass shivering beneath november rain
Only a line of silent mummers
Expressive faces creased in pain
And yet we sit in the dark
And wait still.