Ephemera

On the canvas of a mountain morn, clouds and sun are one. 

Negative space or positive, 't is difficult to discern;

misty moisture permeates the one and dew drops cloak the other, 

while the golden, sourceless light emanates from each and every and all. 

Slenderest strands of spider's silk amidst a forest of flowering herbs, 

flowing with light and warmth and wet.

There's a lesson here, I just know it; 

No, I feel it... in my heart.

A million such dawns, and now another, come and gone, 

but we haven't learned it yet...