Was it you who said, I love you ?
Summer heat warms the still water of a Lilly pond
mist rises, remembering the forms of yesterday
Lost to interior elaboration,
The forest door swings open slowly.
which way will you go?
What form will you take?
Cathedral vaulting struggles to contain
What it can not imagine
Love yearns to fly beyond boundaries
Where the uplift of western winds
whistles through stone walls
Autumn gold takes the form of an ancient goddess
beach tree branches pay homage with beautiful swirling curls