this idea of love,
a cold stream,
a rolling flower in a lake,
a tree turning orange and pink,
the wind smelling like rain,
a frog's croak in a misty night,
the idea of time and distance embedded in the twinkling light of a star,
the restless upward motion of fog licking the mountains at dawn,
sweet and fresh dew running down a jungle leaf,
this idea of understanding
what imbues life, and what takes it away,
i see your trail of sonnets
i hear your broken mirrors
and i can walk into your dreams like dripping honey,
you know the reason
i know your true name.