What language is thine, O sea?
The language of eternal question.
What language is thy answer, O sky?
The language of eternal silence.
The world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover.
It becomes small as one song, as one kiss of the eternal.
The mighty desert is burning for the love of a bladeof grass who
shakes her head and laughs and flies away.
If you shed tears when you miss the sun, you also miss the stars.
I sit at my window this morning where the world like a passer-by stops
for a moment, nods to me and goes.
What you are you do not see, what you see is your shadow.
They throw their shadows before them who carry their lantern on
That I exist is a perpetual surprise which is life.
We, the rustling leaves, have a voice that answers the storms,
but who are you so silent?”
I am a mere flower.