I'm gathering
these tears of sunlight
As they swim through the trees.
An army of petals,
and dying leaves
to crown your head.
Weaving a piece of meaning
Through you.

And in this place
I find your secret meanings
your inextricable wanderings.
As the soft gold light filters through me
and stone flowers of jade black grow and fall,
I see the truth as it once was.
And always will be.

Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Midsummer, in the year 106 MA.