THE SKY SETS no snare to capture the moon, it is her own freedom which binds her. The light that fills the sky seeks its limit in a dew-drop on the grass.
WHEN I travelled in the day I felt secure, and I did not heed the wonder of thy road, for I was proud of my speed; thy own light stood between me and thy presence. Now it is night, and I feel thy road at every step in the dark and the scent of flowers filling the silence-like mother's whisper to the child when the light is out. I hold tight thy hand and thy touch is with me in my loneliness.
