I did not know it would be hidden
beyond the fall you spoke of.
I did not know the water would be there
alone and dressed in the shimmer
of the sweat of the forestís resin.
I did not know there would be a tree
so eccentric that its branches were arms
to dangle from and cradle our laughter.
I did not know the golden dive would
flash to silver to the amber quiet glide
you would make of its entire length.
I did not know the easy silence
as the eye drew upon the page
the long moment of an hour there.
I did not know it would come
to this:† the splintering of water,
words, that ecstasy if made of.
And I am glad you didnít tell me.