I carry you with me in the early morn.
Aye, I shall carry you with me in the eternal dawn.
And in between those two, lies night.
It is there I have learned the truth of sight.
Hidden below the canopy are sounds,
crickets rubbing knees in vibratory rounds.
The lilt of laughter is all about,
echoing from a coyote’s snout.
The owl chimes in to announce who…
Who-whoooo…who-whoooo…
Yes, youuu… It is youuuuu…
The bird lands atop the tent,
from a distance with a message sent
and singing of visions of a day to come
that is woven in and through this one.
And I am taken with all the woodland chatter,
excited stirrings about some matter.
I ask, “What?” They just laugh at me,
thinking how silly it is that I cannot see.
