Farther than to know, yet closer than to see;
Solos and duos, and less the more.
Wanderings overgrown, walks dappled-
The trees; taller than to live, yet speaking not to takers of the forest path.
There is no straight way through the long unkempt garden.
Names called lose their way; echoes are for naked stone.
Faces searched for now in leaf shadow, now in shimmering pool
Move their lips, but remain as silent as the giants.
Warmth is more elusive;
Breezes by the nightside fire, drops of morning diamond
Touch the shoulder where once a lock of hair
rested.
Footsteps unguided can still be found at the sunlit temples
Rising between the unknowing, the almost-seeing;
But whispers on the wind,
visions in the smoke of spruce,
scents of earth and growth
Tell nothing of who came before
Nor hint at the place where
They left the path. 
mellow 