New, the form. Awareness new.

Now I am all the lilies
sailing into the expanse
of water, lake mourning your loss
this misty morning.

I am all the birds calling to you,
frenzied.
Birthing consciousness new.

All the trees drooping.

Crimson haze on the eastern sky,
you passed this way:
I am wailing with the winds.

Time is a strand. Channel, tunnel.
Among many burrowing through here.

Who picks this dust path for me?
I call her destiny.