I dream night silence like rich perfume:
the voice of the moon, a velvet thrumming
like noiseless bees.
Rock, let me rest beside this water, let me look
into this liquid eye–
wherein night becomes day; the moon is the sun
In this once-smooth waste, now leaf with flowers
and birdsong in bright atmosphere,
appears a comet like vivid silk ribbon–
–ejaculation of fire.
Eureka! says the night.
This too is reflected– a burgeoning of petals–
All about me is changed and reflected.
Like the pool at night I hold reflections.