I saw a bride splendid in white garments
I saw a woman with one hundred children 
The children plump and firm within her arms,

Forest could keep secrets
Forest could keep secrets

'Why do you run?' I asked the river,
'So fast I can't compete.'
'I run,' the river said, 'because
I have some streams to meet.'

The willow and the wind
are natural dancing partners;
look how the willow weeps
with the joy of movement,
skillfully rooted to the spot.

Spring is baby,
bright, fresh and new,
gurgling with the melting snow,
singing with the first cuckoo.

At dawn, she climbs over the horizon
to slink between the curtains
and rest her head on your pillow.

This morning she got up
On the happy side of the bed,
Pulled back
The grey sky-curtains
And poked her head
Through the blue window
Of heaven,

Which can be brushed out long and fine
to lie across a pillow
or bunched and scrunched into an angry
knot of rain before it is undone, 
when long hanks of it hang

The moon was married last night
and nobody saw,
dressed up in her ghostly dress
for the summer ball.

The sea lays big glass hands on the sand,
spreading its fingers out as if new
to the shore. It can’t quite believe in it.
It wants to hold on before the glass breaks.