in days of softness summer sings
it’s varicolored chorus;
the bright life essence solstice brings
the sharp relief in minor things
through light we’re opened, porous
in moments of recumbency
we find our missing ardor;
the worried minutes hours flee
and all the lost, the you the me
invoke the sacred charter
in days of softness summer sighs
its song of sweet enchanting;
if love came first we’d realize
that tenderness is right and wise
and summer, time for planting —
the seeds, our lifetime’s
granting