Maple trees make their naked brown case to spring
like Manao Tupapau – Spirit of the Dead Watching.*
The honey sun spreads over open fields.
“Wake up and shout joyfully, you who live in the ground!
For you will grow like plants drenched with morning dew.”*
Our life together hangs in time’s relentless pulse,
here and now is dread,  the future is blank,
becoming nothing we know in this world.
Silence surrounds us, we are naked as trees,
fragile flesh drenched with morning dew.
*Song of Trust, Isaiah 26:19