Bare brown tree,

branches bent by snow.

Low down clouds,

above a moon.

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Winter is here,

Spring to come.

Yielded heart waits.

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Night has not

been lost;

You forgot

to close

your eyes,

I waited

for day

to begin

again.

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Listen for the

rise of a wave,

stream flows

silently

to depths beneath.

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A far off birdsong– it was missed from the air.

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We live

most

in our minds;

where

your words

do not answer

to mine,

and what eyes

have been denied,

we imagine

better

than they

have seen.

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Sat

Sat in standing pool,

unsure of three depths below.

Leaping through waves.

Upward turns gaze,

floor of seven parts above.

Where flying things go.