so keen the blade

the scope of vision comes down to one leaf

no time for moonset in the distant bay

that was a moment lacking in all grief

 

an age ago we thought it plain relief

to break the silence letting each one say

the scope of vision comes down to one leaf

 

not one of us would claim to have a beef

with those who had not yet quite gone astray

that was a moment lacking in all grief

 

it was so easy then to play at chief

and turn rejoicing to the sun's first ray

the scope of vision comes down to one leaf

 

in simple times the problem with belief

is that it makes the whole of life a play

that was a moment lacking in all grief

 

to tell the truth i name myself a thief

who has abstracted memory of a day

the scope of vision comes down to one leaf

that was a moment lacking in all grief

signal and metaphor

we miss the moment and we fail to speak

so time itself slips out of weary hands

not subject now to anyone's commands

 

only an infant stands upon the peak

and gazes out upon the sunlit lands

we miss the moment and we fail to speak

 

the mighty river starts as muddy creek

so we are told but no one understands

that oceans set the limit of the sands

we miss the moment and we fail to speak