WE LIVE IN this world when we love it.

IN THE NIGHT the song came to me; but you were not there.
        It found the words for which I had been seeking all day. Yes, in the stillness a moment after dark they throbbed into music, even as the stars then began to pulse with light; but you were not there. My hope was to sing it to you in the morning; but, try as I might, though the music came, the words hung back, when you were beside me.

IN THE mountain, stillness surges up
to explore its own height;
in the lake, movement stands still
to contemplate its own depth.