Still the silent quiet of age steeps rich this moment, reflecting,
echoes just what hopes deny in truth's cold introspecting.
No fear, here, within the pause caught and loosely locked.
Just awe respecting shadow's keep amongst the greying, flocked.
Cast across the virgin snow,
a starkly naked silhouette,
contrast black on diamond white,
full moon with no regret.
Above the chord once struck in grace,
single notes climb higher, higher,
resolving o'er the echoed space,
where resonant, passing times retire.
The years upon themselves will close,
once folded then unfolded,
as unaged born, to ageless turns,
through aging's twining scolded.
Across the fields of mists she rides, in quickened step, as thundered ghost, flashing grey to white in tides, between the shadowed elms and posts. Her ochre hair in fury's fire eclipsing sun upon her wake, yet glides above in liquid lines, beneath, her courser's muscles quake… into the wood and gone.