I. Shades of the winter moon distill the sky into a foretaste of the arising: the emergent forest tapestry of dissonant souls harmonizes. Time stands in full motion still for this year, and the fruit of an ancient labor demands the stage of many rounded plateaus in whose caverns resonate the affirming strands of pearl . . . II. Vague remnants find the secret eye space where slowly they are supported each among the others shoulder to shoulder among themselves as brothers tied about the wings in a bondage they do not decry, mystery and wisdom throb the space between them like nations on a day of peace these scraps of velvet cast their silken lines and fish out of a holy cup certain seamings— I would not want to show them but in a mirror of priceless hue. Things of ransomed life haunt each other’s shells as they dance the plan they thought so long ago.