Fay Slimm.

You

 

 

You.

 

From poplar leaves weeping their
amber on evening
to the silver of rustling ripe wheat
You determine the key.

 

From the hues in new buds and the
power in grass
to dawn\'s entrance in saffron sheets
You construct the secret.

 

From rain-flakes of sheen on watery
lawn to shawls of
fine feathers supporting bird\'s necks
You establish the text.

 

From salmon whose submarine life 
ends after breeding  
to queen bee in eggful resplendence
You remember the spell.

 

Your word, Oh Alchemist draws from
base pure gold, bares
to each searcher treasures of nature
for You make the changes.