The fairies leap like diamond fish,
The wind's waves drink the shore,
Turn back and forth to fish before
The mirror broken again on the stones.
This is where the wind is at home,
In this sanctuary from judgement,
The full expression unsuppressed
By etiquette,
Of truths cold as the water
But as radiant and blue
And moving in every no direction
Conceivable, ever-veiled
Like the cloud robe
That crowns the mountain,
The archangelic word too far away,
By design, to be heard ...
"It's barely a lake" returns in the ear
"It's lakely a bear."
