Through the hush with which the early morning dew
brings forth… I walk.
And gazing through the endless rows of moisture,
I find that my physical reflection is but an obstacle
to my real truth and essence.
For beyond, far beyond those images lay barriers
to which I owe presence.
And though their structure deserves scan, I move on.
For I grow wearisome of their height
and my flesh lay torn from their affect.