when we return                of the world        of ourselves
to the routines                   to the silence

let us set                             let us sit
the stones                           in the gloaming
to a bright new room       and watch the light
and conceive                     shake with
of its colors                        beautybeautybeauty

what is your hand
in the mystery
of things?

what is it
that you choose
to gather?

with eyes
to the horizon
there can be no measure