Morning Unwoken:
A Video Poem *

light is what falls

not what arrives

through branches

like an unfinished sentence

the lake has no language

but remembers

the outline of distant dreams

she emerges from the forest

quiet

unhurried

like a breath not yet finished

she looks toward nothing

simply existing

her gaze resting

where light meets shadow

before the wind begins

the world is already altered by her presence

she is no illusion

nor a memory

only the stillness

that becomes visible for an instant

the wind

no answer

only tying knots in the empty air

language arrives before silence

she is nothing but

an unopened morning in your dream