SONG

Through the flowering wisteria, last night’s stars

revive to the sound of spring water,

while moonlight draws our gaze

where we hadn’t looked,

this rippling light sinking, rising,

cool beside us. Now I hear

the song that fills thin darkness,

stirs the breeze to tremble

as dawn attends the shapeless moment

from sleep to waking,

its notes the overture

between ten fingers.