The deep parts of my life pour onward,
as if the river shores were opening out.
It seems that things are more like me now,
That I can see farther into paintings.
I feel closer to what language can't reach.
With my senses, as with birds, I climb
into the windy heaven, out of the oak,
in the ponds broken off from the sky
my falling sinks, as if standing on fishes. 
RILKE
Tonight we walk down a road
Thousands of years old
Carrying a basket, my daughter and i
Her in a fur, me wrapped in the night
We climb up the wall
Like the ground we walk on
Stones laid atop eachother
We reach for the stars
And pull down tangerines

Juicy is this nights flavor
And we walk home with our basket