whispers as subtle winds stir memories to your mind
for even dead leaves dance by the earth’s deep sighs
while what is yet to be enlivened remains in darkness
not despair, my love, not the devil’s quickening fear
but wonder is the spark that will give you light here
and I am doing what I promised you only a year ago
bringing light to those places you’d never dare to go
your seeds of fire like the strange surface of the sun
I planted them here that you might feel as they come
tiny mirrors who might sing your soul’s true intention
for trees can’t provide what their seeds do not design
and your heart won’t find its beating in another’s time
but if you listen to the whispers of your own subtle winds
alone let them sweep the memories of ancient karmic sins
dead leaves to clear the way for what you’ll be from within
The Mysteries of Plato 