The space between the trees
passes through light and dark,
air and machine, eagle and moon.

Place where the ground is warm;
where the tears look like pleated
leaves in the summertime.

A map appears through the sweeping branches;
through sweeping branches we see the fleeing animals.

It is a signal from the hidden interstices passing
from the root to where the regions of space are old.

Multitudes of old planets contain multitudes of new life!
Knowledge spills out the wrinkle of home with bursts of lonely
unknown sounds we decipher
          with moving images.

Dare to enter the space between the trees.
Through memories that hang on summer
          boughs/

dream of things to come.