Bend ourselves over the
Water, where the heat blends through
The down, and shines upon us as who
We are, and who we rippled be.
...
After the frost left us, and all that shines
gave birth to new light,
We held our hands together, in the orchard.
And every day the dying western sky
...
There but a few words in this revelry,
That can wring the heart of its joyful tears,
And the saddest song that a man can sing,
Is the song of a man with no more years.
...
The seven wheels were turning on the sand,
And two were tight as iron's hold on blade,
The other two were led by strict command,
And two lay rounded, softened while they're made.
...
Then the gentle falling,
Leaves among,
That which all day,
You have done as just another,
...
The moon has no less radiance than the sun,
Yet here in cloudless night is masked away,
By silken strands of silver spread upon,
The starry sky and masterful array.
...
Paint my words upon the canvass of sky,
So all who look to heavens may believe,
That though I knelt beneath clouds of night,
I simply held no voice to calm the seas.
...
The golden hue and wisps of vibrancy,
Reverberates upon the scattered trees,
And flickers of our own fragility,
Are hov'ring in the soft and sunlit beams.
...