I.
Comes a dimming on the green leaves in spring;
They pause, mid-whisper.
Comes a child ’cross the green meadow of forest;
Animals scent the air, intent.
Comes a rain in the green morning of day;
Still, all things watch—
Child and cloud.
Bare feet, bare arms
Embrace the light of day;
Leviathans, weightless,
Caress honey-colored locks—
In a breath are light, air and infant one.
Then washed indoors,
A yet sweet-breathed bairn
Is lullayed to easy dreams of rainbows
By Nature tapping soft at window panes,
Asking Innocence to come again and play.
