one evening while you are dining
(and the song bird is singing)
we three siblings may approach your table
and standing in the shadows
(not easily detected, as imperceptible textures in the air)
may attend to your conversations,
your exquisite gustations
and wait silently, alert for your recognition,
the nascense of an epynean inquiry –
or perhaps we will approach while you are sleeping
(when the three comets trace your velvet realms)
and regard your turning to life lived beneath the horizon –
where the dark winds ever blow
the song bird inquires –
and cerebria, our heart, lies open to you