Wood grain extracts the stress stored in my bones, 
smoothing the tumult of a curious mind. 

Curved and lacquered — perfection paralleled only by the glass cutters
who unseparate this oasis of the senses from the outside.

The bird ballet begins before us, amidst the
beauty of the ocher fields and ruby trees: a season’s symphony. 

with humble gratitude to Puryear, Hurwitz, and the Rales