With the Ink of a Ghost

Idle as it seemed, trudging through the mist

Following the creeks, erasing dim lines on the list

Eager to arrive, leaving footprints in the clay

Reading rocks and vines, telling indigo from grey

Telling indigo from grey

Scattered rays of light on dust grains in the air

All berries in the tree earn a steady flare

Among the mirrors of the scene

Some appear frail and incomplete

In a vast field of bales she runs

From the deepest valley past the sun

Opening up the vault to find spinning tops in play

Embedded nested yarn diverting from the gates

But once the faint elusive moans

Evaporate in the morning light

All deserted yearnings come to life

Surface from the dark to realise

How in a vast field she runs

From the deepest valley past the sun

All this time, witness to the changing tides

All the while, finding ways how to make sense of all the lights

To shape the winds, to shape the currents

And the rigid hives we're living in

All this time, witness to the changing tides

Idle as a wave moving out at sea

Cruising without sound, molding what's to be

Serene between the trails

Serene with the time and ink of a ghost