Through the ancient triangle of days
drawn ever on by whiffs, hints and firefly flashes,
we follow nature's sign language,
thinking everyone else in the forest understands,
not knowing how little and how much she reveals.
Never and ever telling it all,
listen, listen, listen…

Let us trade stories,
with no attempt to solve the mystery,
for the simple joy of sharing a snippet,
something we can sip between us,
a nectar dripping from our moment
at the apex of the triangle.


August 2004