Between the points of needled light

With a yarn of strung out clouds,

I spin for you the sky soaked moss

And weave these darkened leaves.

I tread upon the softer limbs,

Hanging in the balance:

Above my eyes a branching web,

I spiral close and limber.

Treetop reaching, heaven wishing,

I breathe for you the pinewood air,

I feel the lightened breeze.