born of bubblie waterspun a Magic Lace Game three faced in one gold braided frame green all the grasses of wold and tree branched infinitlie wicket keepers have gone wicket keepers have come rivertime reels and unravels it's tome with the jangling of metal the clanging of stone, to wherry-ride the Fisherking's ship blood and bone where seals of fire wheel in the sky turn around and around... chanting the tone of bowery found stringing the strands come unwound where branches lowly bow across the shallow ford our watercress grows blooming flowers & grassie floors wicket keepers have gone wicket keepers have come rivertime reels and unravels its song you drink from my mouth as I drink from another the smoke rizes, the ashe descends cleft in twain, made whole again ...no beginning, no end, no beginning