The Birds in the Breeze
It has been a long season without the trees as guides leaves the forest. Topic of your withstanding eyes: green and keen and wind and beauty (the saturated daylight; the undulating night signs).
But if I would start again with just one lesson: I would remember the eternal in everything in you. Because what I want grows to everything that I have except the sort of excitement that I anticipate delivering to you –today is tomorrow-is today- because I know I am knowing when you and I talk of the birds in the breeze in the trees. Your words can conjure white mountain beauty; your words bring classic water from hidden quarters. your song is landscape, seascape and skyscape summer, making my hissing sisterly pleas breakingly quiet. O my last little lips were dried by the night sun but no longer will they falter anew
I have heard what I know it is gardens and glow; it is steady and heady and true. It is figures of past awakenings, surfacing kind prayers it is Sunday and wonder for you.