and waiting for the eels to leave
the stars were also alert
each turned toward its own
The distances passed by each other
like birds scared
from awakened darkness.
I know not where the eels will stop
in what waters their past
will sink away
but they know the path
of their dreams
they have the endurance to show them
the way back.
And you have a voice
which will encrust the distant shores
and return fertile
to another time.
Let it be visible as much as
the silvery trace of the snail
on the fresh palm of morning which
though fragile shines brightly.