From where does the change come
if not within yourself?
From the spheres that hang like
baubles in the evening crested sky?
From the sliver of silver fish that
leap from the river to waters high?
From the speckle of worn grass which
tries to show the traveller’s path?
From where and to where, I’d like to know…
Tis perhaps from thy heart
that mysteries murmur
and call as siren song?