The tree's shadow extends, the passing minutes
are drawn across the ground. The birds are lovers
in the silent sky, their songs change by the hour
as dusk approaches. I can taste the absolute
in the tart berries, in the bitter and mute
steel that vibrates. The grey clouds that pour
the rain over the leaves, the lights that tour
the heavens in cyclic patterns. Her attributes
are beyond sight and sound, the passing seconds
are of no consequence. I fashion a frame
for her essence, a symbol for the short pond
that holds her feet. I wander in the sublime
atmosphere, the emerald grass and the diamond
surface of the water seem to suspend time.
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