Staring through a window at
branches against the white sky.
Like tributaries of a river,
the trees life flows like water.
Stare long enough the windows
begin to shake and blur.
Everthing gets distorted.
Besides the branches, the tributaries,
the water that flows from it and
the water that falls from it.
Focal point of vision unaffected,
the details that surround hazy, unclear.
Close ones eyes to see that
veins of the eye and branches of the tree
go together intermittenly.