What world of words would stay this unfraying time? Miracle gold/ ageless buttercup-what lustre lifts its delicate eyes to that promise of April-crimson afternoon Sun-and as my shadow still runs this purging earth curve-where we are warmed by floating grace- a vast treasure of Stars-O million gifted widening sky the children speak of your being/ Bearing Inside all things unended/ your first words which you and silence could believe. Softest evening wind reprieve-A wild and precious melody afloat/ Lyric Eternity/ O ancient secret from Father to Son. From The River of Swans 1997 Painting 2018