Night Into Day

While I was in the oak tree,

Whistling into ether

The summer all around me

Stilled…

In sorrow's hour,

The only vibration is that of strings

Fingertip memories

Echo into the silence…

Cause I care not to talk,

As the wind not to stir

And birds not to sing,

Leaves no longer rustling,

And I have ceased my whistling-

The sound was a memory of you,

I move my fingers, the only thing

Besides the sun a-setting

And darkness comes,

Sky expands,

The heavens emerge,

I sit in the tree

Silent throughout the night,

Sleepless…

Morning comes with sunshowers.