Awake
with trees
and the stream
now empty
now brimming
Alert
to clouds
that weave
the threads
of sky
Hands extend
and in
their cup
planets
stir
Feet spread
boards
deserts
ice fields
Pages not
yet written
since they
were last
erased
And we
split off by
invisible lines
await
flute’s breath
to blend us
kj7nov10
