We've looked for that fabled plant of many colors, the bird whose song grows a canopy of grace over the blighted land. We've pushed our stone-heavy hearts into the wood, afraid to return without remedy, without salve. We would lie down with each other if we knew we could send strong new roots into the earth. We would cup foam from the water if we knew how love could leaf beneath a reed-brittle trellis. Spell into my palm the key that was thrown away and then found. Tip into my throat the dewdrop which shows us how some things we thought lost were simply cloaked in temporary disrepair.