The singing birds and the quiet array

The singing birds and the quiet array
of petals on the flowers, the gray fog
obscures canals and bayous. Her soft legs
move among the water as the waves play

along imperfect shores. She is a ray
of brilliant light, the Sun that I have begged
for forgiveness. The songs of bugs and frogs
dance in my ears, I can see how she lays

across the tapestries, the light reflects
her calves and heels, how she distributes weight
and moves within the space. She is my object

of meditation, the mystery that's caught
my gaze finally. My ears and eyes collect
her figures moving in the morning light.