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Looking deep into orange shadows
cast in the glow of dying embers and cooling ash,
anyone, lulled, would be drifting to sleep,
but I must tell you, first,
before I, sinking, seek you
in the delicate hush of my dreams,
that today, when I was with you,
for the first time found a hazel wood,
felt breathlessly alive in its fragrant breeze.
I've ached all my life for this place we passed by,
pitifully wandering while ages of apple blossoms
withered in my sea-salted hair and died.
But today, as if it no longer wanted to hide,
there it was on the road, quelling my thirst
like a kiss long desired.
And perhaps it would matter little
but as I felt my spirit flying off into the wind,
clinging only to the shiver of your eyes fixed on me,
I recognized the heavy branches of my secret forest,
saw its aged sign peeking out behind fruit-laden trees,
and just then came floating in my ravished mind
welcome thoughts of one day waking to the only
thing now left in this world worth seeking:
I would not ask you to be for me the sky,
no matter if we are old or young,
only to simply, when the time is right,
kiss my lips and take my hands,
and as the hazel wood beside me,
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