We know the green language, you and I
The open fingered feeding on sunlight
High notes of summer’s currency peaking
In freckled gold on eggshell blue of sky

We know the green language, you and I
The wind that whips the leaves off autumn’s lips
In hungry licks and slow full-circled sips
Whirling at our feet like dervish sighs

We know the green language, you and I
We are pilgrims of the unmarked shrines
Made and unmade on the shores of skin
We are mendicants of madness, the loud

Silence of atoms, moving yet still
Beating in the hearts of bearded banyans
Hollow as armpits, holding us aloft
As the city speeds by numinous, unaware

We know the green language, you and I
The one that turns ochre, crimson, vermilion
And burnt sienna on the pages of our eyes
The one that knows us, knows the ache

As we leave these rooms of leaf and roots
Slowly bleeding off the margins of time.