The sky is the realm of one,
We are the realm of three.
Two are for balance:
Mind and heart,
Ritual and faith,
Rock and sea.
Words gliding against branches,
Chasing rolls of pleated chiffon.
Moving to the scent of morning.
When would you like to make love to me?
In winter, I am sprinkled over blue spruce.
In spring, I am the scent of a snowdrop tree.
I am your myth,
A harvest hymn.
The third of three.