It was in the wonder-filled countryside, a patch
where the flowering meadow shone like a face,
where two huge blue lakes widened to the distance
like a double kiss from sky to landscape.
Over mosses of vair and loose stones of gold,
the waters dripped white like tears of dawn;
the flash of a bird’s wing caressed the ground, the flight
rhythmic, following the to and fro of branches on the wind.
The fringed larches extended their open arms
like pilgrims turning towards the light.
Beneath them, along green lawns, shadow slumbered
and spread as far as the river’s mirrors.
The crystals of morning glinted in the air;
all life adorned the silence of things;
all leaves shone with a movement so clear
and on their parted lips quivered the Word.