An impression singular, stands out
Stare at it with vacuous eyes
A distant land, green blades of grass,
The opaque mist covering a mottled stone tower.

My feet digging, clinging the soil, that breathes in rain
A whiff of scent carried by the shivering leaves
And tawny pebbles strewn on coarse sun beam,
 - big and small, of various shapes, a kaleidoscope -
there tracing the outline of some island in the northern bay,
there resembling a parakeet in sway,
All singular forms yet make a new whole, nature's playground
there She stroked a lilac brush and there,
carved a river of stones, and here in this crazy worm
multitude legs yet a pathetic crawl, I see her playful,
chuckle with delight.

A tiny dew reflects me, multiplies me
I've not seen that in many eyes - they look beyond me
at a mound of stone, something fixed, fated,
a biological clock running against its own course?

Yet look at me here, I'm thousand times over
in the umber mud that smeared that winter leaf
on which I stepped as I glided across the surface of this stream,
and in the bird that broke into a mellow tune as I deflected,
with one deep breath,
a moth patched with shades of chrome.

Soon as I gather the whole essence of this I,
I dissolves in the multiplicity of being,
I live million lives, some reflected in moist dew,
and some in the shadows that trail on the pavement behind,
my moments recaptured multiplied
I know not of better eternity.