January: Year-day 18

   
                                       
                                                
January: Year-day 18

Veils.  Veils.  What we see, we see but in part.
From the beginnings of vision/ this truth
has stood before us.  Each thing has its heart,
even the airs, in their moods, mean and couth.

As closely as we inspect a brown leaf,
as perfect as our eyes and other senses
may be, we'll never end that humbling grief
imposed by our natures' walls and fences.

Walk with me to the back of the house, sit.
The apple trees will moon with apples soon.
If rightly we can't know the half of it,
come row with me through the padded lagoon.
So what if neither of us sings in tune:
our creations will, if we have the wit.

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