I used to listen to the sound of Night carving trees in my yard 

As Night touched 
What's perched in the leaves
took shape and came into life:
A face afloat above dusted Oblivion, 
A hand reaching for Love pulsing with the Heart 
Of Dark . . .

More 
and more; I could not tell them all 
And I saw myself fluttering wings
Flying in the dark Void as well
Just like I had been doing this all the time
On the wings of Word 
Heading for somewhere unknown - There
Many were familiar 
Everything was new . 
 
Day became longer and paler
After a tree was completed
But Night has never been tired of looking for another one, and 

Then I turn to You.

@2005 - 2022