resting, but still awake, poised as if to hear your gentle music
alert to harvest moon's bright golden pouring
there stands a single flower, as blue as sky day
as blue as you, your eyes are morning sky
hazy with the dew, as glistening as flowers
you hear me, as the flowers fragrant with the moon
they have no choice but to listen to the changing spheres
of planets spinning infinity, festive in their rocking
prayers are not necessary in this field of tall grasses
waving wheat and wild flower, tiny rodents skipping
your foot steps soft upon my ears, as abbey bells ringing
we sing the sacred without the texts
we dance delight as morning lifts her tresses
dew dries upon queen anne's lace
Kate Lamberg
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