softened curls of twine. made from the forest bed. she went fishing for flowers. to find them and send. the browns and the goldens. the muted shades lent. the mist between motion. of traveling scent. of flowers she gave thee and dreams that she drew. amongst forest places and love that is true. — S. Kamber https://youtu.be/0PNEKeh59Rw Often when I imagine you, your wholeness cascades into many shapes. You run like a herd of luminous deer, and I am dark; I am forest.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke