Echo of the clocktower, footstep
in the alleyway, sweep
of the wind sifting the leaves.
Jeweller of the spiderweb, connoisseur
of autumn-s opulence, blade of lightning
harvesting the sky.
Keeper of the small gate, choreographer
of entrances and exits, midnight
whisper travelling the wires.
Seducer, healer, deity or thief,
I will see you soon enough-
in the shadow of the rainfall,
in the brief violet darkening a sunset-
but until then I pray watch over him
as a mountain guards its covert ore
and the harsh falcon its flightless young.