Merino

Birch, in a silent grove passing finches welcome the changing leaves .

Cima, from the mountains hear the echo between now and now.

Drift, a gentle sweep of snow calms the world I hear my thoughts.

Echo, over the water the silence calls, a winter mist rises.

Lunar, a cricket sings moonlight reveals blossoms before dewfall.

Pebble, a knowing hand is never empty, gems sleep in the humblest stones.

Staccato, an empty field a tree and the echo of cicada.