steven and i in the field of stars

		circles within circles
		we ride through them all
		circles within circles
		in the midst of the southern regions
		there a man rests and weeps
		this year next year
		sometimes
		oh never

		if we think then that there is
		no joy

		but listen
		on the edge of the winds
		all many greens manifold and lovely
		the sighing and crying of the winds
		the lovely boughs
		the lovely lights
		the lovely stars jewelly nobles
		the pitted starheads of burning fires
		burn far brighter burn brighter
		starry glory golden flame 
		lambent than any other stars we know
		the moony wetmouthed cradle of bluenight
		the plumèd bird lovely voiced
		the streakèd cat rooted hairshine
		head of furlight
		purr of bright sound
		lovely and noble jewelly lords
		so sparkling glimmering spitting lights
		little houses of fire
		in little towns of fire
		open and shut their fiery sandsheet eyes