Shades of green and ice of blue,
A color unheard and yet the color is true,
Wispful clouds so archingly new,
Colored as pale as the bright-skyed blue.

And alight are the feathers of the mountainside,
Wood so deep in an attempt to hide,
And by the laws of the forest they abide,
Yet their feathers still fly on the mountainside.

Curved is the stream and the river where it leads,
Under the pine and craggy-cliff eaves,
Speckles of shadow like midnight-eaten beads,
Far is the quest where the river soon leads.

Shadows of green and sky-river blue,
Questions and answers that may never be true,
In the world that is old and yet somehow new,
Know the light of the trees and the ever-lovely blue.