
Whenever I look at a tree
I see only half of it
Leaving the other half for you to gaze upon
Leaving half the space open
Everywhere
Even on my pillow
Just for you.
Never have I been able to cross
The river
Only about halfway through
I leave the rest to you.
Droplets quiver on the lily-pads
Like the moon shakes before an eclipse
Like dry leaves flutter before Spring
I quake in my half-measure life
From a half-filled moon, with a half-filled mug
And from your love, halfway there.
