They led me to a chamber where
I heard you would be found,
and I returned shuddering and
baulking from the hall of mirrors

I hear your whispers walking with me
in the valley of flowers as in
the mirage-riddled path to the oasis

But fragrant pathways lead nowhere,
empty the nights of adoration

Dry of the sap of zest, barks that uphold
the canopies of our lives under the stars
And we hang paper flowers from them

where? when my call echoes in the winds,
you came and sat by my side, your warmth
entered in my soul. When I cast my blinds,
I find the world a hall of mirrors