In misty morning’s early grasp
autumn rituals of smoke
and crackly leaves
lay strewn around about…

and I hover
twixt two times,
two places and wandering
from side to side
and place to place
and me to me,
fading, forming,
transparent and thin
dropping (fig) leaves.

this tree longs
to slumber
and lay dormant
awaken and
break free…

I take on form and visage
and gather threads together
of my true heart,
and feed to life’s
warp and weft and beam
till I am fashioned again,
with face and substance shining…
me…

Her glowing Grace-Kissed Gleam.