02. What Light Falls On

This leaf’s
pristine uncurling

this robin
here at our feet

the three of us
in this same moment

here in this wood
these bluebells’

speechless splendour
those nettles these weeds

for want of any name
exquisite flowers

rain through the trees
and the paths going

where they want
and where we want

on all sides
the mystery

of all the things
that light falls on.