Chemistry

The snow came in the night to bless us.
Hope we are blessed, but it seems as if.
The dawn was a cream on the crumble of night.
Crystals formed in silence and reverie and
expectation of the forming day, the sound of
your text in my eyes
as grey shades watched me watch the coming of
day. I walked through the all of the ice-froze weeds
along the raised path to the circle of steps.
Fox-print set silent in the iced step,
night movement frozen into the sight
of dawn like the secret working you entail in
my own garden's soul as I dream-breathe and feel you, alone,
angel-step your spirit through me, a dark pool
breathing in the moonlight and heart of your steps
through your own distance and night.

Down from the terrace through the psychic stress
of wishing light, the deer print, silent witness
to their path across the frozen lines of
grass. You have been here too - saw you, in
the glow of summer, in the thunder of that light and skin, hunt for fruit amongst these trees.
Will we walk again here, you and me next summer,
you ravishing the yew in me, the distant witness to you, where I walk now through the dark arced passages, knowing you near and far?