The cat inhabits when she sits,
And what's withheld is in her eye.
What unsprung poise
Shivers the stillness of this gaze?
The bordered terrace of a dream
Bears the commission of her place
My envoy to what's before me.
2400 This moment has a weight of stone That holds itself aloof From the landscape of my dailyness, Whose lightness wants no proof. My eye enframes this clouded sky Which seems to stand apart, Yet if seen's the same as seeing, Time's a subtle art.
2379 Your life's residence Was never in its whole But its moment And measure of one arc In memory's spacious round. You abide in the swift Center of the wandering world's Present, past thought's compass That what once was, is still.