Sylvan Sheen

A song begins, but pay no mind.
That timid player of sweet melodies
too flighty to find, 
knows when you listen and flees. 

I love his longing chant
for it seems my very soul
awakes to dream, desire, pant.
Relief! to know one's not quite whole.

Slayer-sun of player-on—
reborn in what's unseen—
You cannot know where now it goes
these memories of dream. 
And yet, I can't deny, sylvan sheen, 
tree's shade and sunbeam…