Trees gone bright
With whitened moondark
Pour out night’s
Soft voice from bark,
From branch, from leaf ...

Believe, my love, believe.


Bulky shape
Of willow, black,
Reflects from lake,
Echoes back
Its weeping breeze ...

Dream: believe.


All-conquering calm
Floats slowly down,
Soothing balm,
Star-blown crown
Of rainbow evenings ...

Now: believe.