Fallen on the sterile ground
This body is the fruit of trees,
And blanketing my turning skin
Is heaven in a quiet song.
I slept wildly until daybreak
Shone for me the future’s form:
Shadows on the barren land
Are nurturing a timid germ.
Between my father and my son
I am a window open wide.
Hear! the old creek’s babbling
Leave from me an ocean’s sigh.
