THE WEAVE:

Vesta floats on an inner
tube, upon the Dreaming
Sea.  She writes, with
her fingers, upon it's surface
in the Sun
-set...

What Now?
What happens Now?
What Wind

and from where
forth does it come
from?  What Deep?

What silt collecting
round my soles
in a pondling

-stream?  What Cloud?
What never-ending
-guiding-dream?  What Love?

And where forth
come It.