Imaginative circles

Imaginative circles
Stories within the story
Through surfaces we walk

Within The stillness of mirrored skies
To see the radiance
Reflected to that radiance
Within the born in me that
Comes through you

Like water among the pebbled stones
I saw before me as in a waking dream
A small wooden bowl with
Milk and strawberries
Under a pinewood tree and quiet moss

Through The subject of its object
Taste of earth and roots
Contained within its boundaries
Probed without such eyes
To its very core

Before us and within
Like cool water washing
a Childs tender feet in the
still water of our lives
New leaves shine amidst
Its aged stems