Silent but distant,
 Real but not seen
 Here but not happening,
 Forever has been

 Into this absence,
 Two had but strayed
 Retracing in circles,
 They surrendered, dismayed

 Behind them, darkness
 Ahead, the unknown
 So they stood, uninvited
 ...But the roots had grown

 An error, a tangent
 curious mind
 An instant, a lifetime
 secret to find

 The dream and the waking
 Occurring together
 Realising, then
 That it mattered not whether

 Imagined movements
 Near shimmering webs
 The Nightfall descended
 To rest by their heads
 Their feet planted firmly

 'Neath four darting eyes
 With pupils dilated,
 They counted the sighs

 Their legs fading into
 curding moss
 Their lungs slowly filling
 With decades of loss

 That scent form the forest
 Not taking, not giving
 They knew only this —
 Not buried, not living

 Their stagnating veins
 Now hidden from view
 In skin for the willow
 And bone for the dew

 The dream and the waking
 Ending together
 Understanding then
 It had not mattered, ever