On a cliff, a tree stands  besides a poem .

a poem  in blossom,  spreading on your skies.

i walk from the poem's morning to evening

i step across the river to

the pathways

leading me to the poem's valley.

And on a boulder  i climb to listen to the poem's silence.

 i witness

the  flower speaks to  pebbles.

And on the wind floats a feather .

and i go with these poems where they are going.

And at the end of today i rejoice

i weave from my night born longings

splenderous spectrums of love.

But my Love poem -- will always be You.