We walk a steep and slippery way,
Mixing senses in synesthesia’s way,
It seem I am a chorus in a play.

We feel by measures hidden from the eye
Time borrowed, days wasted, times go by:
I walk along a steep and rocky way.
 

Winter seeps me into sleep, as my soul flies,
the gist of an art unborrowed from time or tide;
I learn by going, where I have to go, inside.

Dark holds imagination in thrall, 
 I reconcile to day becoming night,
This terror can paralyse my eyes.

I wake to sleep and take my waking home with me
I seek, perforce,  with all my senses stripped away,
Others watch as skies fade to a kipper-grey,
An ever-changing melding of night and day.

I seek to shake off this edifice of days
Time falls away as the wise woman prays
She dreams of making her waking slow
mingles prayers with softly falling snow.