Fractured light
swans along the hills,
Leaps and ebbs
like feathered fire.
Knee deep in wooded awe,
we peer into the lapis haze above.
Divine artist, roaring
down the corridors of time
burning cold as serpent's scales,
Your hands, your brush, they crackle.
Touch you, and we burn;
Look on you, we stay.
You charm us with your song,
Asking nothing for our passage
but our love.
