A long undue could just be brought,
I pulled the nine of cups.
Bring me wisdom, guide me strong
I have spent the time to grow.
But why do I remain the student,
Why does my heart call out?
Children will be heart and soul,
Come back again tomorrow.
I, for one, have left behind
Symptoms of unspent growth,
Until at last, I am the student,
Perhaps forever more.
Surely as I grow beyond,
Like a beanstock reaching high,
My arrow will become well tuned
And my horse shall be named Amo.