Something or someone calls not from the dream time but below the sea where the sleek seal dives, or in the belly of the rock

I harvest silence like a field of hay, threshing intimacy into rows of emptiness, raked and combed by long sharp tines of the inner life,

If I awoke before light, before bird call and waves beating, so early there was only you and me, the only two awake in the

One man has left the earth; his wolf-dog went before him scouting the way on the old journey into the timeless; leaving behind his music,