Shyly

Wisdom is the aftermath of desire
into which time orphans us, so we see
with the new eyes of our advancing age
that are old eyes that blink to hold back tears

kindness now shines with light rarer than gem's,
it is quiet and unassuming, asks nothing
in return, gathers itself in the bloom
of its own meadows of wild flowering

orphaned I am still wonder of the sun,
see through myself, aspire to translucence,
appearance and disappearance are joined,
I have lost my need to know what I am

there is some repose in all I propose,
shyly I wear a skin of gratitude