I just walk under trees. I just walk under trees, every day of my life,
their knobbling arms reaching over me and sometimes pressing in to me.
What I mean to say is, it’s important to have things in your life that are constant.
There is nothing touching me lately, so I walk.

Who was it that invented the colour blue, other than yourself?
Who wrote that one expressive line that lives through us, true little things all the way down.
What I mean to say is, who was the first person to look further into the distance
and call it blue?

Nothing is ever silent or without words. One morning I woke
before the sun in the depths of winter and spoke a little
I couldn’t hear the sound but of the earth, the blue
of the lake howling up through the ice, loudly and without shame.

What I mean to say is, how brave the world must be,
new and learning everything through the sound of its own voice.

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Nothing was new in my life, so I spoke
howling the morning into words.

One voice reaching everything through the constant
and expressive world.

Before nothing there was distance

I walk through lives
learning a little of trees who invented silence.

Hear the earth, sometimes blue, all life
the sound of one person touching shame and
the brave further within.