The Opening
Up here, just above the peak,
time percolates, bursting forth
the seconds and minutes fresh
as beads of dew on velvet moss.
The Middle
Notwithstanding all clichés of love,
we persevered till we came through
on the other side; the one
most lovers fear, where hush permeates
and quiet gratitude rules.
The Closing
At the birth, long before the signs,
when the bells tolled for no one yet,
the scribes sharpened their quills,
for blank pages must now be filled.
