There has been granted
Two leaves into my life:
One has been a jewel
One has been a cause.
And as it speaks its soul out loud
The vision becomes clear
And so does all the madness lay
Into a pit: despair.
But who should laugh?
Who should lament?
Who should run along the car?
Leave so slow, alone.
Who should drink the coldest drops
From deepest drop of well?
I am a poplar set in dirt
I am the fraying skin
But as my heart becomes again
I becometh leaf of spring.