I won't say a thing, my lips are sealed all day, every day. And I live under the sea, so you would hear me anyway.

The eye fixed upward Track celestial dances As the Earth spins on

From crashing seas or garden hose, from perfume mist upon your clothes. I scatter drops that drift away, what am I that floats this way?

Born from a spark, it dances and sways, a hungry breath consuming all, turning wood to ash, with a warm embrace that drives away the chill.

From rooftops I begin to grow, as falling drops forget to flow. I lengthen slow in winter’s chill, what am I, sharp and still?