Here it is.
The red of the marked
Brain.  The fruit of the hollowed
Vein and the blood of the holy
Stream.  When will you waken?
Dry off its drowning veil?
All the years of steeping
Have never moved you near.
Once there was music
And once there was light
Now there is dusk and murk.
Now there is muffle and slight.
A wash in a glass are a sea
Of yesterdays and spent
Tomorrows.

Where have all the days gone by?
What once was new, now is made;
Night is falling, close my eyes,

Now, the moments softly cry,
The light has clouds racing away,
Where have all the days gone by?

Fresh and verdant the gentle tighs,
Summers sweetness up in blaze,
Night is falling, close my eyes.

What once was truth now is lie,
After rains shear loss of May,
Where have all the days gone by?

I hear the hush, leaves that die,
I fear what the swan has to say,
Night is falling, close my eyes.

Awakened to such sad surprise,
Spring was such a fleeting haze,
Where have all the days gone by;
Night is calling, close my eyes.

Birds rush and are busy
Breaking the days, laden
Twigs have broken, landed,
White clouds sail in breeze,
Sun has spilt, over gleamed
Gold on crest fallen, blue mountain,
Leaves lay with browned, under
Grown green matted grasses—
Whispers of spring.

Light slowly rises,
Milky sun, soft, tannin mist—
Coffee in morning.

Black inked letter,
Words shaking on white paper,
Last line read— farewell.

Flowers, we both cried,
Because tears were not enough,
Petals cup the rain.

Petals of flower—
Impossible freshness, breaks day,
Her eyes opening.

Ended travels— bliss,
The landed wings of two swans,
  .  .  .  Riding lake waters.

From the skies they come,
Devout birds swirling in briars,
  .  .    Blackberry mandalas.

High trees drop green leaves,
Otters wade in morning sun—
  .  .  .  .  Minnows in the stream.

In the corners' eye—
My hands aching to touch her,
  .  .  .  Only shadows now.

Bounders drawing lines,
Last days lowered like a boom—
Chalk of rising moon.